New World, Old Ghosts
by Aquila1
Summary: Max and Logan come to the aid of Logan's beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues. It's FINISHED! Finally! I hope you enjoy it. H
1. Chapter 1

"Damn, Logan

New World, Old Ghosts

By Aquila 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: hhinam@hotmail.com

**Summary**: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble. I had someone point out to me that my stories seem like chapters in a larger work and in a way I guess they are. They basically go in chronological order. You can read them in the order of Unfinished, Pas de Deux, Walking on Water and this one, filling in the blanks with the show. However all of the stories stand just fine on their own.

**Author's Notes**: Sorry I've been taking so long with this. I reposted this chapter as I've changed it ever so slightly. Chapter 2 should be up by tomorrow. Thanks again to all of you who have reviewed my previous works. It truly keeps me writing. I'll warn you all now, this one is going to be long. I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for ages and I'm slowly getting it out in print. Hope you enjoy it. I have a penchant for detail so there may be a few slow parts here and there. I started writing this before I even heard about Haven, so any similarity is minimal and a fluke. Finally, if my characters resemble anyone living or dead, it's also a fluke, unless, of course I planned in that way. 

* Special thanks to Joy B. and Chris for your edits. We'd be overrun with commas otherwise. Thanks to Ana and Lindsey for your support in my writing and other aspects in my life. You guys are terrific! 

Chapter 1 

***

"Damn, Logan! Where does your cousin live, under a rock?"

Logan couldn't help but smile to himself at Max's exasperation as he steered the Aztec off the main road onto a narrow gravel track that wound its way down into the dark shadows of the primeval forest.

"There are some people who like to think that she does." He mused, as they were thrown forward against their seatbelts by an unexpected dip in the spongy road.

"How much farther is it?" Max whined jokingly, as Logan fought back another smile. 

"Another fifteen minutes or so at the rate we're going." Despite the vehicle's specially added four-wheel drive, Logan picked his way carefully along the rutted road.

Max settled back in her seat and gazed out the dirty window at the seemingly impenetrable wall of trees, her eyes drawn to the veils of shadows that hid the deeper reaches of the forest from view. She leaned her forehead tiredly against the window, revelling in the feel of the smooth, cool glass against her flushed skin. They had been driving for over three hours straight; and, despite her physical advantage over most people, the emotional strain of the journey that was staring to take its toll. She inhaled deeply, fuelling the frustration that brewed within as she realized just how much the shadowy forest reminded her of the man sitting next to her.

It had been six days since she had nearly lost Logan to his own despair. Landing back in his wheelchair after a brief taste of freedom had nearly proven too much for the great and powerful Eyes Only and Max shuddered at the thought that killing himself was his only source of reprieve. When had everything started to slip? Why had she not been able to see it coming? Max snuck a glance at Logan, whose concentration was devoted fully to the road ahead. Since that day, a wall had been building between them and now it had become so thick it was nearly visible. Every minute they carefully avoided the subject of his pain, Max could feel him slipping further away and she just couldn't seem to hold on. She really didn't know if, left to his own devices, he would try to do it again and that realization scared the hell out of her.

Even in the close confines of the car, Max could feel the chasm between them growing wider by the moment. To the outside observer, nothing had changed. To Max, everything felt wrong. Feeling the weight of her gaze, Logan turned and their eyes locked. Max was quick to turn away as she realized what it was that was twigging with her. It was his eyes. His eyes had died. That cool fire that burned behind them, shining with intelligence and passion was gone, leaving behind a hollow shell of the man she thought she knew.Unable to withstand the growing ache in her heart, Max turned back to the window and focussed again on the shadows. The darkness there unnerved her now. She couldn't fathom what it was hiding in its depths.

As her mind drifted to yet more disturbing thoughts, the music from Logan's CD that had been whirling around her, like the flurry in her mind, had now changed to a soft, gentle melody, seeping into her reluctant consciousness and soothing her raw nerves. She sighed in resignation as the yearning cry of an English horn bled away into the delicate harmonies of its French counterpart. The effect was subtly beautiful, like the rare shafts of sunlight that found their way through the canopy and danced on the puddles in the road. The calming effect of the scene was not lost on her and again Max inhaled deeply, filling herself now with a before unknown hope. She steeled her resolve, realizing the wall was just going to get thicker and higher if she didn't start trying to break it down again. Before Logan's thoughts of suicide, they had found a sort of comfortable place with each other and Max desperately wanted to get back there. Maybe this trip would give her that chance.

"What are we listening to?" She asked, her first crack at the wall. 

"Dvorak," Logan answered distractedly. "His Symphony from the New World."

Logan never took his eyes off the road, trying to anticipate the potholes, but mostly unable to bear Max's gaze. He couldn't take the look in her eyes, the questions, the worry. She looked at him like he was a time bomb ready to explode and Logan didn't want to admit that, in a way, he was. It had been, six days, two hours and twenty-four minutes since he had brought the pistol out of it hiding place and contemplated it as the instrument of his release, of his death. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Would his death have really been such a bad thing, to go down in the blaze of the glory of his noble sacrifice? That was a load of crap and he knew it. He had only wanted to end it all because he was too weak to face being tethered to that chair again and to have to withstand the stares and the whispering behind his back. He had tasted freedom, only to have the cup dashed from his lips yet again. His rational side berated him for wallowing in his self-pity, but why the hell not? Everything he had ever wanted had been taken away from him in a cruel twist of fate.

Well, not quite everything. He snuck a glance at the woman next to him. The frantic look on Max's face when she'd wrapped her arms around him in relief when she realized he was alive meant more to him than he ever thought possible. Somehow, she had figured out what he had been planning and she cared. The feel of her arms around him, holding him protectively had brought him some measure of hope. Hope that maybe things between them would change; that maybe some of the defences had been breached. His hope had been short lived though. After that one moment of closeness, in the space of a heartbeat, they were back to where they had started, he in the chair and Max a million miles away, always just out of reach.

With a muttered oath, Logan wrenched the steering wheel to the left, to avoid another gaping pothole as they rounded a particularly sharp corner. Suddenly, almost as if a curtain was lifted, the trees parted.

Max stared in awe at the scene before her. The shadowy, towering tree trunks gave way to a crystal lake, nestled in the valley they had just descended, blanketed in trees and framed by the snowy, fog-shrouded peaks of the Cascades. All thought flew from her mind as she stared, open-mouthed, out the front windshield. Never had she seen such unspoiled beauty. Her entire life had been coloured in the dismal grey of pain and despair; first in the sterile grey walls and unfeeling people of Manticore, then in the crumbling buildings of Seattle, its streets crowded with souls who had lost all hope, beaten down by marshal law. Now all of that was replaced by a myriad of vibrant colours, the towering green spires of Douglas Fir and cedars, swaying gently in the breeze, the lake, an unearthly blue, sparkling in the gold of the late-afternoon sun.Ensconced in the shade of a few stately Sitka Spruce, just up the bank from the lake, stood a majestic old lodge, surrounded, like attendants, by a number of smaller cabins and outbuildings.

Max blinked wildly, afraid it was all a dream, that she would open her eyes and find herself back again in her hard bed in the abandoned building she called home. Dvorak's music swirled around her; it truly felt like a new world, a world without borders and checkpoints, without barbed-wire fences and men with guns. Max felt a smile creep across her lips as a pair of geese took off from the lake, their loud honking audible over the noise of the car, and disappeared over the trees, nothing to hold them back. As the beauty of the scene seeped into her troubled mind, Max felt an almost foreign sense of lightness, that here in this beautiful place, she might be able to feel truly free. She was really starting to think this trip wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Max was shaken from her musings as Logan brought the Aztec to a lurching halt and cut the engine. "Here we are," he announced. "Spirit Lake Field Station."

Before Logan could protest, Max got out and brought the wheelchair around to the driver's side door, set the brakes and left him to settle himself. She knew how much he hated for anyone to acknowledge his disability, but Max was tired of pretending it didn't exist. Logan's legs didn't work. It was a fact she couldn't ignore, but one she could accept if he could just accept it himself.

Taking a few steps away from the vehicle, Max inhaled deeply. The crisp air rushed into her lungs, filling the dark spaces within her with a new sense of calm. Her eyes were drawn to the lodge sitting peacefully among the trees, as if it had grown there. The rough-hewn log walls rose to a peak on the second floor, the upstairs front windows set into dormers in the moss-encased roof. A large stone chimney, that dominated the southern wall, was smoking placidly, filling the air with the inviting smell of a wood fire. A railed porch hugged the front and north walls, and disappeared around the back, out of view. A couple of old rocking chairs graced either side of the large front door, giving the whole scene a pioneer-like feel to it. 

The sound of wheels on gravel brought Max's thoughts back to the present. She spun around to face Logan as he came up behind her. "Well, what do you think?" he asked with a slight smile; maybe the air was affecting him too.

Before Max could answer, they were interrupted by sudden barking. Max wheeled around to see a large wolf-like dog barrelling towards them at breakneck speed, barking and wagging its tail wildly. Immediately on the defensive, Max braced herself for the attack. 

Despite his dour mood, Logan couldn't help but smile to himself as he watched Max prepare to square off with a dog. _'It must be all that feline DNA' _he mused with a wry grin. He was certain that if he looked closely enough, he could see the hairs on the back of her neck, where her longer hair had been swept aside, standing on end, like hackles. He was waiting for her to hiss at any moment. 

As the massive beast closed in on them, Logan decided to take pity on Max, who looked like a coiled spring, ready to go off at any second. He let out a shrill whistle, chuckling when Max nearly fell over in shock and called out "Hey Otus! How y'a doing boy?"

Otus picked up the pace, closing the distance between them and launching himself into Logan's lap, slathering his face with gleeful abandon. 

As the shock of the scene wore off, Max's reflexes kicked in as she noticed Logan's wheelchair on the brink of teetering backwards. Before anyone could blink, her left hand shot out, grabbing the handle as her right hand reached out to set the break.

Logan glanced up over the enthusiastic dog's head and held her gaze. "Thanks" he muttered, sheepishly.

Max quickly shrugged it off. "No big dealio."

"Hey Otus! Stop harassing the visitors!" A cheerful voice from behind the house cut through the awkwardness.

Max whipped her head around and caught sight of a short, almost stocky woman as she appeared from behind the house. Max eyed her warily as she ambled towards them.She was dressed in a brown denim barn jacket and her eyes were shielded from view by a wide brimmed felt hat. Her dark blond hair hung in a braid, like a short rope slung over her shoulder.

"Hey Maggie!" Logan called out to her.

"Logan! You made it!" Maggie cried as she broke into a run. "Otus, you'd better make room on that lap for me 'cause I'm coming through!" 

Logan shoved the dog off his lap just in time to catch the woman in his arms. Max took a step back, and watched the entire scene with a mixture of amusement and the slightest twinge of jealousy. She had never really figured Logan for the overtly familial type, especially after all the fake smiles and strained conversations of Bennett's and Mary Anne's wedding. Now, watching him laughing heartily as he tried to fend off his cousin's bear hug, Max couldn't help but yearn for that kind of closeness with her "siblings", but she knew that would never happen. Zack had all but cut her off completely, reminding her yet again, that she would never truly have a family.

"God, Logan. It's good to see you." Muffled by Logan's shoulder, Maggie's voice penetrated Max's haze. She watched as Maggie disentangled herself from her cousin and turned to face her.

"You must be the Max I've been hearing so much about." She said, smiling slyly at the man seated between them and extending her hand. "I'm Maggie Cale, Logan's cousin."

Max shot Logan an '_Alright, what did you tell her_' look before taking Maggie's hand in her own, marvelling at the strength behind the small woman's handshake. 

Noticing Max's wariness, Maggie's smile broadened, as she released the young woman from her grip. "No worries Max, Logan hasn't gone into any detail…yet."

With a gentle chuckle, she tipped up the brim of her hat and Max was stopped cold as she finally got a good look at Maggie's face. She'd know those eyes anywhere. Although they were a deep slate grey instead of a shining cerulean blue, she recognized the fire behind them, a fire she had only seen once before and as far as she could tell, that fire was gone.

"Well, lets get your stuff inside and get you guys settled." Max moved aside to let her pass. Together, the two women headed back to the vehicle to collect the luggage. Within minutes, everything was settled inside and Maggie led them on a tour of the ground floor, with Otus hot on their heels, sniffing intently. As Max passed through the rooms, she felt a comforting warmth seep into her. Everything about the place was inviting. The inside of the lodge felt charmingly rustic and cozy, thanks to a small blaze in the fireplace that dominated the spacious living room. The evening sun, filtering through the dusty windows, bathed everything in an amber glow, making the old wooden chairs, the battered sofas in the living room and the worn table and shelves in the den look almost new. Hand-knit afghans tossed over various chairs completed the picture of simple comfort, a far cry from the clean crispness of Logan's apartment.

They finished their tour in the large kitchen, filled with a myriad of wonderful smells. A pungent stew was simmering on the oversized stove next to a pot of steaming wash water, while two freshly baked loaves of dark crusty bread and an apple pie sat cooling on the counter.

"I see Logan's talent for cooking is genetic." Max said with a hum of approval as she surveyed the simple feast from her seat she had taken at the table.

"Thanks Max, but I don't know." Maggie answered with a smile as she dished up the stew and brought it to the table. "I'm not sure it was entirely nature over nurture. Everything I know about cooking I learned from Logan's mom."

Logan shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the mention of his mother. Noticing his discomfort, Max decided not to press the subject further, despite her insatiable curiosity when it came to her friend, but Maggie continued.

"Whenever I came to visit, Logan and I would sit in the kitchen and watch Aunt Eleanor cook. She was always cooking something great and sometimes she let us help. Uncle Owen and Aunt Eleanor's house was always filled with wonderful smells and music…"

"Where do you fit into the Cale family tree?" Max interjected between forkfuls of stew, wanting to save Logan, who, from his faraway stare, was obviously suffering through memories of his childhood lost. 

"Oh, didn't Logan tell you? I'm Bennett's little sister."

Even Logan had to laugh as Max's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"I…I… never…" Max tripped over her words, suddenly at a loss.

"Never would've guessed that I had been spawned by people like Jonas and Margo Cale?" Maggie answered with a grin directed at her cousin. "Don't worry about offending me. I would take that as a compliment."

"It's not that." Max replied, trying to hide the fact that she was thinking just that. "It's just that you're so…so…different from the family I met at the wedding. Were you there?"

Maggie's eyes danced with laughter as she watched Max still trying to come to grips with this new piece of information. It was obvious that she had not taken a liking to Logan's Uncle Jonas and Aunt Margo, and was now trying to come up with something nice to say about Maggie's parents. "It's O.K. Max, you don't have to pretend you like them for my sake. Logan's not the only black sheep of the family. No, I wasn't at the wedding. Bennett's a good guy and my brother and I love him very much, but you couldn't have paid me enough to go to his wedding."

Max couldn't hide the shock at the other woman's words about her family.

"I wasn't really invited anyway. Despite his professions to the contrary, Ben, the eldest of four, is the prodigal son and always will be. I, on the other hand, was an afterthought, the only daughter in a family full of sons, a mistake, a fact that has always been obvious my entire life." Maggie smiled ruefully as she remembered her past. "Don't get me wrong. I had it a lot better than most and besides, I always had my favourite cousin." She said as she cast a sidelong grin to Logan who smiled back warmed by the shared memories of their childhood. 

"I would go to visit Uncle Owen and Aunt Eleanor as much as possible and Mom and Dad were always happy to see me off, concerned only with nurturing their son's standing in society. Logan's parents became more my parents than anyone and Logan was happy to take on the role of big brother. When I went away to college to become a biologist, Jonas and Margot hid this scandalous career choice by telling people I was off travelling the world with some socialite. Not that I cared what any of their friends may have thought of me."

Max chuckled at the defiance in her voice. She was beginning to think this was the first member of Logan's family she could really relate to.

"But I don't begrudge my parents completely," Maggie continued. "They did make it possible for me to keep this field station running, thanks to my trust fund. The pulse forced the universities to cut funding to all unessential services and there are not many people these days that have the time or the money for the environment in this country. So now, a handful of scientists across the U.S. like myself, work to preserve what little is left of our natural ecosystems. The pulse killed our computer systems in one blow, now it's causing the slow, painful death of our natural systems. In their desperate attempt to get out of the pit of ruin this country is in, people are clawing away at any resource they can get their hands on without realizing they're killing the one lifeline that sustains them."

Maggie finished her story with a heavy sigh and took a long sip from her steaming mug and Max noticed a slight tremor in her hand, belying her intense fatigue. As she studied Maggie's face, Max could now see the signs of the battle weary soldier behind her soft features and Max felt her heart go out to this woman who had been fighting seemingly alone for so long for the one thing she believed in. Reminded her of someone else she knew.

Turning to her cousin, Maggie couldn't hide her desperation. "Logan it's getting worse. I've managed to keep the loggers at bay for 6 years now, but they aren't going to go away. There's too much valuable timber in this valley. Prices for old growth logs on the Asian markets have skyrocketed and they'll stop at nothing to get their wood." Her voice was filled with a fiery passion. "We've had to form a perimeter around the area, with watchers living on all corners of the valley to keep the machines out, but the bastards have upped the ante." Maggie's eyes blazed with anger now. "Bergstrom's hired outside help to do his dirty work."

"How do you know?" Logan asked; his full attention riveted on his cousin now that the conversation had shifted completely into business. Max sat listening quietly, her face impassive.

Maggie took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for a blow. "They killed Simon."

"Oh God, Maggie…no." Logan's voice was barely a whisper as he reached out a hand in comfort. 

Although the names meant nothing to her, Max could see how much this Simon had meant to Maggie. She sat stiffly in her chair, her eyes vacant, looking straight at Logan but not seeing him. She took slow, deep breaths, fighting to maintain a semblance of composure. Max wanted to reassure her that it was O.K. to let go, but she understood the woman's need to appear strong, even if it was only on the outside. Whoever this Bergstrom was, he was in for some serious ass kicking.

"I…I found him…" Maggie's voice cracked with barely contained emotion and she squeezed her eyes shut, as though trying to force the memory from her mind. Max felt her heart clench. She snuck a glance at Logan whose eyes were now glistening in the dim light of the kitchen and she felt her own eyes welling with warm moisture. Maggie took a shaky breath. "His… neck had been snapped. There was no struggle; it had to be a professional job."

"It's alright Maggie, we don't need the details right now." Logan said reassuringly as he squeezed her hand.

"He not the only one." Fury replaced sadness and Maggie beat her fist on the solid wood table with a dull thud. "They got Charlie too and Sarah was attacked in her home three days ago. She's gone back to live with her mother." 

Max could feel her blood boil at the thought of innocent people being snuffed out, like flies in their own homes.

"They're taking us out one by one Logan. Soon they'll be able to waltz right in here and just mow the place down."Despite all the anger and frustration that boiled within the small woman in front of her, Max could still detect a faint note of fear in Maggie's voice at the knowledge that she may be next.

"Don't worry Maggie, Max and I will get on things first thing in the morning."

Maggie's mood visibly lightened at the offer of help. "Thanks Logan. With your Eyes Only connections, you have access to much more information than I do." Max's ears automatically pricked up at the mention of Eyes Only. She eyed Maggie with new caution. The rest of Logan's family knew nothing of Logan's real work and she was surprised to hear it mentioned so openly. But as she studied Logan and his cousin eagerly continuing their discussion of ways to deal with Bergstrom, Max could easily see the kindred spirit between them. Suddenly, it seemed only natural to Max that this fiery member of Logan's family be part of his fight to save the world. "And on top of everything else…" Maggie paused, smiling warmly at Max, interrupting her private thoughts. "It's nice to have you both here. I just don't feel so alone."

Max gifted the woman's appreciation with a rare smile and the mood in the kitchen lightened noticeably. Otus, who had spent the entire conversation curled by the ever-warm old iron cook stove, yawned loudly and shifted positions, tucking his nose under his tail and closed his eyes. 

Chuckling softly, Logan commented with a yawn, "I think Otus has the right idea. The sooner we get to bed, the sooner we can figure things out in the morning."

Max smiled inwardly at Logan's enthusiasm. This was his first real mission since landing back in his chair and he came alive before her eyes at the chance to help people. For a brief moment, she saw the embers of his old fire flicker in the dimly lit room.

***

Logan gazed out his open window at the moonlight flickering across the still lake, mirroring the dance of the stars across its expanse of midnight blue. Frogs had begun their chorus for the night and their rhythmic croaks mingled with the gentle lap of the water on the shore. Inhaling deeply, Logan revelled in the crisp smell of cedar and damp earth. He yawned mightily and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. Hauling himself into bed with a grunt, he reached over to his bedside table. He pulled out a well-worn leather-bound book, loosened the fastenings and flipped through the pages. A good portion of the once-crisp white sheets were dog-eared and filled with his small, but flowing handwriting.

This book was his escape, filled with thoughts and feelings he couldn't share with anyone, not even Bling and least of all Max. She would probably scoff at his introspection. Being a masked crusader for all that is good has its disadvantages. For what seemed like an eternity, he shared his secret with no one, telling his trials and triumphs to the only confidant he knew he could trust. His journal. Ever since he had thought about killing himself, his journal had become even more of a refuge. For the last six nights, he had furiously scribbled down his feelings as they flowed forth unchecked, weaving them into lyrical poems of frustration, pain, despair and hope. 

Tonight, as he surrendered to the catharsis of his writing, Logan's thoughts drifted to his cousin and the pain of finding her best friend's life so brutally cut short. He suppressed a shudder as his mind turned to Max. She would have been the one who found him had he pulled that trigger. What would finding him dead have done to her? He was sure she cared about him on some level. Her frantic hug that day had warmed him to his soul and allowed him to dare to dream that maybe she really did see him as more than a means to an end. _'You have everything to live for.'_ Mrs. Moreno's words had struck a chord that became only more resonant in the face of Max's obvious concern. As he revelled in the remembered feel of her arms around him, Logan realized that Max had saved his life yet again. She had given him a reason to live, at least for now.

***

Max lay awake on her bed, staring at the shadows dancing across the ceiling of her moonlit room. As always, she couldn't sleep. Filled with pent up energy, she jumped off the mattress and began to pad around the room, like a caged leopard. She longed for the lofty solitude of the Space Needle. Looking down from its peak made it easier for her to put her thoughts into perspective. Max contemplated climbing out onto the roof, but she'd have some explaining to do if they found her up there, near the big stone chimney, sitting like a rooster waiting for dawn. No, for tonight, at least, she'd have to obey her restraints.

Suddenly, a strange noise pricked her ears over the chorus of frogs outside and Max stood stock still, listening intently. It came though clearly now, through the bedroom wall. It was crying, a soft, muffled sobbing. Unable to ignore the pain behind the sound, Max quietly made her way down the hall, in search of the source.

She found Maggie propped up against the pillows of her bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth, her shoulders shaking from the force of her sobs. Her long hair was undone and covered her face in a waterfall of burnished gold as she bowed her head, breathing deeply, trying to control her tears.

"Maggie?"

The other woman's head shot up with a start and Max met her shining eyes. She looked so lost, like a deer in headlights.

"Oh… Max…I'm sorry if I disturbed you." Maggie said quietly, breaking the tension in the air as she hastily brushed away her tears.

Max was immediately taken aback by Maggie's words. "No, you didn't… I'm sorry…Are you O.K.?" She was completely at a loss for words, so she moved across the room and tentatively sat next to Maggie on the bed.

"Yeah, I'll live." Maggie answered, with a sniffle. "Night's always the worst time."

"You really miss him huh?"

"Simon?" Maggie clarified, Max nodded. "Yes, very much." She answered, fighting back new tears.

"So were you two a…" Max searched for the right word.

"A couple?" Maggie finished. "Not really. We didn't have that kind of a relationship."

The hitch in her voice made Max's heart turn over. She had heard those words before. Looking at Maggie, Max could see that she was on the verge of breaking again, fighting desperately for the last strands of control as they slipped through her fingers. As she watched Maggie wage her inner battle, Max saw a bit of herself as she could've been if Logan had pulled that trigger.

Despite, or maybe as a result of her brutal upbringing, Max hated to see suffering, but the intense emotions brewing within Maggie scared her.She just couldn't see pain that deep ever fading and the thought of how close she came to experiencing it first hand terrified her. Not knowing what else to do, Max slid closer to Maggie, whose tears had returned. 

"Here," Max murmured, as she held out a tissue she had found on the bedside table. Maggie accepted it gratefully and leaned back against the pillows, fighting again for control.

"It's going to be okay." Max whispered, knowing her words likely brought little comfort. Gently, she closed her hand over Maggie's offering the only thing she could, a foundation to hold onto as she rode out her storm.

***

As the last light was extinguished, plunging the lodge into darkness, no one noticed the pair of eyes, gleaming in the shadows, silently watching, like a predator stalking its prey.

***


	2. Chapter 2

New World, Old Ghosts

New World, Old Ghosts

By Aquila 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: hhinam@hotmail.com

**Summary**: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble. I had someone point out to me that my stories seem like chapters in a larger work and in a way I guess they are. They basically go in chronological order. You can read them in the order of Unfinished, Pas de Deux, Walking on Water and this one, filling in the blanks with the show. However all of the stories stand just fine on their own.

**Author's Notes**: Sorry for the incredible delay in getting this next instalment out. Too many things to do, not enough time. I can't promise chapter 3 will arrive any faster, so thanks for hanging in there. I fully intend to finish this. Thanks again to all of you who have reviewed my previous works. It truly keeps me writing. 

*Thanks to Chris for your wonderful job betaing this and for our lovely, very long conversations.

*Thanks also to Joy B., Ana and Lindsey for your support in my writing and other aspects in my life. You guys are terrific! 

**Chapter 2**

A thick fog had settled in the valley, shrouding everything in a damp white cloak. Slowly, the early-morning forest was coming to life with the intermittent warbles and chittering of a myriad of songbirds, hidden among the foliage. The plaintive cry of a loon cut through the din and echoed across the valley, to be answered by the soft yodel of its mate.

Logan breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the cool, moist air, as the faint beginnings of a smile found its way across his lips. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the scene from his perch on the edge of the porch. It looked almost like an impressionist painting, muted colours bleeding into one another. He felt like he was in a dream world, one so fragile that if he moved too quickly, everything would fade into the mist. Here it was easy to pretend that the pulse had never happened, that all of the hardships of the world didn't exist and that Eyes Only and Manticore were just a figment of his imagination. This valley hadn't changed in hundreds of years and it was hard to imagine that anything could disturb it. But the real world was knocking ever more insistently at the door and Logan was not about to let them in, for Maggie's sake as much as for his own.

A movement out of the corner of his eye dragged Logan, reluctantly, out of his reverie. She appeared out of the mist like a spirit from a long-forgotten tale. Logan watched her, transfixed, as she seemed to glide along the shore, apparently unaware of his gaze. She spun around suddenly and watched as a solitary beaver sliced a path through the glassy lake, stopping for a moment, only to dive below the surface, slapping its tail with a sharp _crack_ and sending water in all directions. Max looked down and stared at the wake that approached her, like she was pondering the fate of the small ripples that met her feet. The veil of white softened her features, erasing the hard lines of the soldier and leaving behind the faded picture of a young woman, fragile and alone. 

Logan so desperately wanted to be standing there next to her, like he had been for that fleeting moment that now seemed like a lifetime ago. He gripped the wheels of his chair like the bars of a cage that kept him from running to her and sweeping her up in his arms, like he had wanted to for so long. He felt trapped again, like the moment he had found out about Dr. Vertez's death. She had been his last key to freedom and now he had run out of options. 

As he gazed at the woman before him, he saw his saviour; his angel and suddenly he realized just how pathetic that seemed. He had truly become dependent on Max, seeing her smile, hearing her voice. It's what kept him getting up in the morning. '_How sad is that?'_ He thought to himself, as he rebuilt the walls around his heart._ 'Here I am, some rich guy in a wheelchair, swooning after a girl almost half my age. I'm almost as bad as Uncle Jonas, except I'm not paying her' _He snorted to himself as a realization hit him._ ' At least not in the monetary sense'. _He suddenly found himself confronted with the reality of his relationship with Max, fraught with manipulation on both sides. _'She really would be better without me.'_

For one dark moment, the thought of ending it all for both their sakes, found its way out of the deep recesses of his mind and licked at his consciousness, teasing him with new thoughts of release, but Logan quickly squelched that dangerous thought. Max would kick his ass if she knew what had been running through his mind, chair or no chair. As he mentally kicked himself for his weakness, Maggie's relieved smile from yesterday brushed across his consciousness. He was needed. His cousin needed him to see this through and, despite what either of them said out loud; maybe Max needed him just a little too.

"Good morning sunshine!" The distant sound of his cousin's bright voice woke Logan from his thoughts. He watched as Max turned on her heel to face Maggie as she approached from the far side of the lodge. Suddenly uncomfortable with his own thoughts and deciding breakfast was in order, Logan wheeled back inside.

***

Max smiled somewhat sadly at Maggie as she met up with Logan's cousin by the back corner of the porch. Maggie was all smiles and laughter like when they had met yesterday, but Max now knew the breadth of pain her smile could hide.

"So Max, did you sleep alright?" Maggie asked, slipping into her standard hostess routine. 

"I don't really sleep much," Max answered, trying her best not to sound impolite.

"I know what you mean," Maggie replied with a rueful smile of her own. "Too many nightmares…"

"Yeah…" Max couldn't keep the surprised tone out of her voice as she locked gazes with Maggie. For a moment, she felt a sort of strange kinship with this woman in front of her. Maggie knew what it was like to be female and alone trying to stay strong, fighting her daily battles. She wondered just how much Logan had told his cousin about her. Max never felt the urge to talk about herself, but watching Maggie fight her inner war last night, Max had been overwhelmed with this sudden desire to share her story so that she they could share the pain and maybe lessen each other's burden.

Max longed for a sister even more now, after seeing Tinga again for an all too brief time. The closest thing she had now was Original Cindy, but there were some things her boo would never understand.Her thoughts began to drift and she found herself back at Manticore, remembering late night conversations with Tinga, Brin and Jondy, when everyone else was asleep. They would sit up all night whispering and giggling like the little girls they weren't allowed to be, wondering what the world was like on the outside. They may have been bred as soldiers but they were still children in need of a family and Max had never felt more at home than while she was with her siblings, until recently, with Logan and now Maggie. She wondered if Maggie would accept her for who she really was. She reminded Max a lot of Logan. Max teased herself with the thoughts of finally feeling like part of a family again, Logan's family, since her own apparently didn't want her anymore. But, her Manticore-bred distrust and a fear of rejection won the argument between her heart and her mind and Max squelched her desire to spew all her past on this unsuspecting woman.

"Max," Maggie's hesitant voice again penetrated Max's haze. "I… uh…just wanted to thank you for being there last night. I was in a really dark place… and it was good to have a shoulder to cry on. I haven't had that in a while." 

Maggie's earnest gaze made Max uncomfortable and she immediately shrugged off the moment "It was no big dealio."

Sensing Max's discomfort, Maggie brightened and changed the subject. "So, could I interest you in the five-dollar tour?"

Max returned her smile. "Sure."

Max followed Maggie from building to building, listening with a hint of sorrow, as Logan's cousin described the field station as it had been before the pulse, relating stories and anecdotes around every corner. She painted a vivid picture of a bustling, busy community of researchers, students and teachers, sharing information and a part of their lives as they tried to understand and preserve the beauty around them.

Now the dormitory cabins stood empty and the dining hall and laboratories were boarded up, standing sullen and weather-beaten after years of disuse. The image Maggie had created in Max's mind was so completely unlike the stark grey sterility of Manticore and Max found herself mourning the loss of such a vibrant and valuable place.

As they rounded the corner of one unidentifiable building, Max started as a loud "whoop!" pierced the air next to her. Maggie couldn't help but chuckle at her surprise. 

"Sorry about that. He gets a little excited about visitors, since we don't get them very often any more." Maggie explained with a grin.

Max wheeled around and found herself staring into the two unblinking, dark brown, depthless eyes of an owl. The bird, in response, ruffled its feathers and clacked its bill loudly, as Max watched, fascinated.

"Max, meet Gabriel." Maggie said with a chuckle. "It's O.K., he won't bite, at least not unless you stick your hand in the cage, then I take no responsibility."

"What is he?" Max asked as the bird calmed down, but never broke his stare.

"He's a Northern Spotted Owl. Not many of these left anymore. Not with all the uncontrolled logging going on. They need very old forest to live in and their home just keeps disappearing, faster and faster"

"What's he doing here?" Max hated to see anything in a cage, then she noticed one wing hanging at an odd angle as the owl settled back on his perch and began preening, running his sharp bill over each feather, delicately combing them out, pausing every now and then to glare over his shoulder, almost like a disgruntled cat.

"He's a patient of mine, along with a number of animals." Maggie answered. "Unfortunately I get a lot of casualties brought here, animals hit by cars or careless hunters or just victims of freak accidents. I rehabilitate who I can save and release those who are healed back to their homes." Her voice took on a loving quality, as if she were talking about old friends.

Max tore her gaze away from Gabriel's strangely imposing presence and walked the length of the building, which housed a number of outside cages. As she peered through the wire mesh, she was met with defiant and sometimes wounded stares of a number of creatures, both feathered and furred. Max had never given much thought to animals. It's not like Manticore ever had a petting zoo. They were trained to think of animals as either threats or sources of food, but looking into the eyes of these creatures, sitting there, like war victims, she felt compassion blossom within her as she realized that at Manticore, they had been no better off than animals, locked in their respective cages.

Turning to Maggie, she ventured, "So you run like a hospital for animals?"

"Something like that. You could think of me as the Section Commander of the Lost Animal Division of the Logan Cale Brigade for the Defence of Widows, Small Children and Lost Animals." Maggie answered, with a knowing grin, as she started walking towards another building.

Max, taken aback to hear her words from long ago parroted back to her, picked up her feet and followed after Maggie. Sheepishly she replied "He told you about that huh?"

Maggie laughed. "Yeah, I just loved that name! I had to use it."

Max, now nervous, eyed her narrowly. "What exactly has Logan told you about me?"

"Nothing you need worry about, Max." Maggie answered reassuringly. "Everyone has secrets and I'm not one to pry. Logan just keeps telling me how special you are and now that I've met you, I understand what he means."

Max felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. Despite Maggie's cryptic answer, she was sure Logan hadn't betrayed her trust. 

"Actually," Maggie continued as she turned to face Max. "He said that he thought the two of you make a great team, not unlike Simon and I…" She stopped mid-sentence, staring blankly over Max's shoulder, as if Simon was standing behind her. Max, unsure how else to stem the sudden flood of emotions, reached out to place a comforting hand on Maggie's shoulder, who continued to speak. "Simon is…was a vet. He brought me Gabriel. Since the pulse had cut my research funding, we devoted most of our time to our animals and we were never lacking in patients." Maggie's voice sounded a million miles away, as she was taken over by her memories. "He helped me organize people to protect this valley from the loggers. I own the land, but it's hard to patrol so many acres. We were coordinating with other communities to link this valley with others to provide a series of connected refuges."

Max watched as the pain bled out of her eyes with a few unchecked tears, to be replaced by frustration. "They just keep coming Max. Without patrols, they can slip in, take the trees and get out before anyone can stop them. It's just a continuous onslaught of people wanting to destroy this place for their own greed and I'm running out of strength to fight them."

Max could see this was as much a war as any mock battle she had ever fought at Manticore, but this time it was different. This time, she realized that she cared. At a lost for words, Max squeezed Maggie's shoulder, trying to reassure her host 

Smiling weakly in appreciation, Maggie turned and led Max through a set of large barn doors. Max was immediately bowled over by the overwhelming scent of wet hay and horses.

"Max, meet the Spirit Lake Transportation System." Maggie's mood improved as she patted the muzzle of the occupant of the stall next to her. "This is the only way to get to most places around here. The roads, if there are any, are too bad to drive, as I'm sure you noticed."

Max eyed the beast with a mixture of awe and fear. "I've never been on a horse."

For the first time in a while, Maggie chuckled. "You'll learn."

"I figured I'd find you in here." Logan's voice echoed through the barn as he wheeled up to them awkwardly over the uneven ground. "I have breakfast and information to offer." He said, accompanied by his most disarming smile.

"Gee Logan, you're _so_ thoughtful." Max answered, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm, the tension of earlier temporarily forgotten

"I was just acquainting Max with what's going to get us across the valley to Bergstrom's plant for a little payback." Maggie chimed in, ending the silent game between Logan and Max, her eagerness fuelled by a renewed desire for vengeance.

"Whoa, there Cos, you can't go charging in there like the cavalry if we don't know what we're up against. You're in a lot of danger and I couldn't stand even the thought of losing you." All the playfulness was gone from Logan's eyes, leaving them shining with concern.

"I realize that, but I have to do something." Maggie answered evenly, trying to mask her disappointment at the thought of having to wait.

"And we _will_ do something, once we have a plan."

Max smiled inwardly. _'Logan? Plan? Now that's a surprise.'_

Suddenly, a smile found its way across Maggie's lips, as a thought of her own crossed her mind. "You know Logan, there's no reason you can't join us in the charge of the Cale Brigade. We still have all the equipment from when we used to run a therapeutic riding program out here, before the pulse. I could set you up."

Logan's sparkling blue eyes iced over and his face immediately became impassive. "Thanks Maggie, but no. I think I'm better off as the brains behind Eyes Only since I don't have the legs." He answered flatly, quickly changing the subject. "We'd better go eat breakfast before it gets cold." Maggie eyed her cousin with a mixture of confusion and disappointment as he turned to head back to the lodge.

Max visibly tensed at Logan's words and Maggie caught a fleeting wave of sadness, as it flashed across her face.She held back the urge to smack her cousin upside the head for being so selfish. In his haze of self-pity, he was completely unaware of what he was doing to Max and it was obvious she wasn't going to clue him in. Looked like she was going to have to take Logan aside and draw him a diagram.

***

Their stomachs full of French toast and homemade blackberry syrup, ham and fruit salad, Max and Maggie huddled over Logan's shoulder, staring at his laptop, as he ran through what information he'd been able to dig up.

"Alexander Bergstrom. Owner of roughly two thirds of the paper and lumber mills across the Pacific Northwest." Logan's fingers flew over the keys as he pulled up file after file documenting the life, accomplishments and dirty deeds of the logging giant. He was in full Eyes Only mode and Max secretly enjoyed watching him in this state, so full of life and purpose. He gaze never wavered from the screen as he continued to spew out facts.

"Since the pulse, he's been the biggest supplier of American forestry products to the Orient." Logan continued.

"That's because he ignores every last rule and regulation when it comes to sound forestry practices." Maggie snorted. "At the rate he's going, they'll be nothing left for him to cut."

"I don't think he cares." Max added, reading over Logan's shoulder. "From the look of these Fortune 500 reports, he's one of the richest men in America since Bill Gates is no longer in the running. He's probably just milking as much money as he can until the well runs dry, so to speak."

"He's been cited for some major breaches of U.S. Forest Service regulations, but each time the charges have been dropped." Logan brought a few new reports to the forefront of his screen for the girls to peruse.

"Of course the charges have been dropped. He's got the entire U.S. Forest Service in his pocket. They just look the other way when he cuts down another old growth stand or find him a loophole to sneak through so that other federal authorities don't get curious."

"Well, I think the authorities will be more than curious to hear about Bergstrom hiring professional killers to take out innocent people. All we have to do is tie him to Simon's killer." Logan felt Maggie tense at his words. 

"And we _will_ find the link." Max rushed to add, also noticing Maggie's discomfort. "Logan'll find it." Max surprised herself with the pride that had slipped into her voice and quickly cut off any further words, for fear of saying something she might regret.

Logan's face flushed and he felt a swell of pride at the notion that Max had such faith in him. In all the months they had worked together, she had never once expressed anything more than doubt of the usefulness of his mission to save the world. Now her voice rang with almost a tone of admiration. It was something he could definitely get used to.

As he shifted his thoughts from Bergstrom, Logan became all too aware of Max's presence behind him. Her warmth seeped into him, tripping his pulse up a notch. When she suddenly stretched over his shoulder to reach some documents he had left on the table, all coherent thoughts flew from Logan's mind. The feel of her chest sliding over his back sent a jolt of electricity down his spine as far as the feeling would go. The world fell away and all his senses focussed on the woman behind him. For one rational moment, he marvelled at how her closeness could so easily send his mind spinning into chaos before he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.Instead of steadying his already overworked nervous system, he found himself overwhelmed by her scent mixed with the lingering odour of wood smoke in her hair. Max's breaths came in soft puffs against his neck and every point of contact tingled. She was so close, all he had to do was turn around and…

"What about his bank records?" Max's voice broke through his haze, as she backed away abruptly to study the documents in her hand more closely and Logan remembered his surroundings, including his cousin less than a foot away. Squelching the dangerous feelings that had been welling up inside, he brought his mind back to the task at hand. 

"Have you found anything in there?" Max continued. "Bergstrom must be paying this guy right?" Logan thought he could detect a slight waver in her voice, but he wrote it off to his own flustered state.

"Uh yeah, I was just getting to that." He answered.

Maggie took a step back and eyed her cousin and his friend with a hint of amusement. The tension between them was almost tangible, but neither seemed prepared to make a move in any direction. 

"What did you find?" Maggie asked, steering the conversation back to safer territory.

Logan turned back to the laptop and immediately slipped back behind the emotionless mask of Eyes Only. A new file, filled with strings of numbers, appeared on the screen.

"At first, I couldn't find anything out of the ordinary." Logan explained as he continued to pull up files. Max tapped her foot impatiently. _'Always one for unnecessarily long expositions. Thank God, he's not a novelist'._

Logan continued, oblivious to her impatience "Then, about a month ago, I found a number of sizable payments to a Basilisk Incorporated."

Every muscle in Max's body tensed at his words. "Lydecker," she breathed.

Logan and Maggie spun around to face her.

"Max?" Logan eyed her warily, unsure how much she wanted Maggie to know of her past.

"It's another chimera. A Basilisk is half rooster, half serpent, just like Manticore is half man, half lion." Max continued, almost as if she was unaware of her surroundings.

"You think one of Lydecker's soldiers is doing this?" Logan chose his words carefully as he glanced at his cousin, knowing that if Lydecker was involved, sooner or later, they would have to come up with some sort of explanation for her.

"It would explain the style of the murders, swift and efficient." Max's mind was in overdrive, piecing together the evidence, oblivious to anyone's sensitivities, and coming up with a grim picture of X-series soldiers for hire.

"Why would Lydecker be sending out soldiers at the whim of a logging giant?" Logan wondered aloud, deciding he would figure out what to tell Maggie later.

"To fund his research." Max mused. "Maybe his failures have caused some cold feet among the powers that be, taking most of his funding with them, leaving him to find money where he can."

To this point, Maggie had silently watched the exchange completely aware of the fact that Logan and Max were dancing around a much larger issue, one they weren't comfortable sharing. Deciding to ease their burden somewhat, she spoke up. "Look, guys, it's obvious there's more to this whole situation than you're willing to let on, but as long as this guy Lydecker is sending out soldiers to kill my friends, I don't care about the bigger picture. I just want him and Bergstrom stopped."

Both Logan and Max smiled gratefully at Maggie for forgoing the explanation for now. Max silently promised she'd clear things up as best as she could later.

"Wait a minute." Logan interjected as a thought occurred to him. "You said one person escaped, right?"

"Yeah, Sarah. She went back to live with her mother; she was so shaken up." Maggie answered. "Why?"

"Most normal people wouldn't be able to escape these soldiers." Max explained, keeping things vague. "Had she been helping you for long?"

"No, actually, she'd only moved here about a month ago, from out of state. She was so eager to help. Some welcome she got…" Suddenly, realization dawned on Maggie's face. "Oh… you don't think she's… Sarah?"

"Manticore special ops… for hire." Max answered.

"She killed Simon… and Charlie?" The pieces slowly clicked into place in Maggie's mind. "Oh, God…He would've invited her in. He would've had no idea…" Logan watched as his cousin relived the horrors of the last week. She looked like she was about to reach her breaking point, but then she took a deep, calming breath and fixed Max and Logan with an even gaze. "They're going to pay for this." Her voice was icy and Logan suppressed a shudder at the sight of his normally bright and cheerful cousin suddenly so steely and cold.

Regaining his composure, Logan turned back to the screen. "Well, Eyes Only can nail Bergstrom publicly and maybe embarrass Lydecker out of freelancing his soldiers for at least a while, but we have to prove the link. Right now, all we have is speculation."

"What do you need?" Max asked, leaning back against a nearby railing. Her own blood boiled at the thought of her own personal anti-Christ selling out her siblings for the killing of innocent people.

"We're going to need more than just bank records." Logan cautioned. "We need to provide a direct link between Bergstrom and Lydecker, or at least proof that Bergstrom is using Manticore technology."

"I may know of where we can get that link." Maggie interjected. "Bergstrom may be a spineless bastard, but he is also a meticulous record keeper.He keeps track of all his dealings, activities and those of his immediate employees in a large journal. I've seen it on the few occasions I've met the man face to face. He keeps everything, from records to restaurant bills." Her voice was a mix of distaste for her enemy and contained excitement at the notion of a concrete plan of action. "He's almost obsessive about it, writing things down, even as he's lording over you. I'm sure you should be able to find the link you need in there."

Logan rolled the information over in his mind, weighing its usefulness. "That might just do it."

"There's only one problem." Maggie cautioned. "I can only assume that it's always in his office."

"Well, it's the best bet we've got right now." Logan turned and gazed up at Max expectantly. "You up for a little break and enter?"

"I'm sure I could get myself into the mood." Max answered back, a playful glint in her eye. For a moment, she saw the old Logan flicker to the surface and she allowed herself to hope that this mission to save his cousin's life's work would help bring back the vibrant, driven man she had come to know 

Logan picked at his keyboard for a moment, pulling up a new window, containing blueprints. "O.K., here's the plans for the plant and Bergstrom's office is here," he said, pointing to a corner on the screen.

"How do you know?" Max asked sceptically.

"It's labelled," Logan answered incredulously. "He really does keep track of everything. Once you're in Max, you can search the office for anything else incriminating, but we will only have this one chance to get in and out. Once Bergstrom finds out his journal's missing, he'll likely be on the warpath, so we have to make sure the evidence we need is in it before we take anything."

"Logan, you forget, I'm a professional," Max answered, mischievously. "What am I looking at for security?"

"I'll print out the specs for you." Logan's tone softened suddenly as he turned his chair around to face her. "You may be a professional, but I still worry… and with Lydecker potentially around…just promise me you'll be careful, O.K.?" He broke off his gaze, afraid of what he might say with his eyes and reached for the paper being spewed from the printer nearby.

Maggie watched the scene before her, equally confused and strangely touched at the silent conversation obviously going on between her cousin and his mysterious friend. _'Max is a professional at breaking and entering? Where exactly did Logan meet this girl?'_ Despite Max's apparently shady past and seemingly uncertain future, Maggie found herself relating to this strange young woman who had so completely invaded her cousin's life. After all, they had a lot in common. Max apparently had her own battles to wage, enemies to fight and, just like Maggie, she cared very deeply about the man sitting in front of her, whether she was willing to admit it or not.Logan's feelings were just as obvious, and Maggie felt a pang of longing for what could be between these two if they would only see through their stubbornness. For her, it was too late.

"So, when do we want to do this?" Max asked, catching Maggie's attention.

"Well, there's no time like the present," Maggie answered, suddenly eager for action. She was tired of hiding, waiting for the next shoe to drop. It was time to bring the fight back to Bergstrom. "I can guide you across the valley this evening. It's a few hours on horseback at a slow gait. We'll get there just after dark."

"Whoa there, Maggie, I don't want you anywhere near Bergstrom's place." Logan chimed in, trying to exert his age as a form of authority.

"Logan Frederick Cale, since when do you ever tell me what to do?" Maggie answered haughtily, slipping back a few years to when they were kids fighting over whether Maggie could go horseback riding with Logan. "You've never been able to in the past and I'm sure as hell not going to let you start now. I understand and appreciate your concern, but no one knows this valley better than I do. Max needs a guide, and I refuse to sit around on my ass, hiding in some corner, doing nothing. This is my battle and I intend to fight it."

Logan blinked and stared speechless at his little cousin. _'I should've expected that.'_

Maggie took a deep breath to replenish her spent lungs. Max stifled a laugh. She was starting to appreciate Logan's cousin more and more.

Logan sighed resignedly. "Alright, let's get things organized."

***

The rattle of a woodpecker echoed among the towering firs on the far side of the lake, like an alarm clock announcing the hour. The late morning sun had dissolved the fog and now shafts of sunlight dappled the leafy undergrowth, dancing in the gentle breeze. The songbirds had forgone their morning songs for the more pressing need of food. In the gathering silence of the early afternoon forest, a lone twig snapped, betraying the predator as it stalked swiftly towards its target.


	3. Chapter 3

New World, Old Ghosts

New World, Old Ghosts

By Aquila

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head. Oh, and I'm kind of partial to Maggie, so could you please ask me first if you want to use her?

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: hhinam@hotmail.com

**Archiving: **Please ask first.

**Summary**: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble, but this story has taken on a life of its own heading off in a completely different direction from the show.

**Author's notes:** Thank you so much to all of you who are patient enough to follow this story. I'm flattered that you keep reading. It really is what keeps me writing. Remember, what they say, "Patience in all things" I'm a good way into chapter 4 so maybe it won't take me as long this time. Yeah, I know I've said it before. Life just keeps getting in the way. Drop me a line anytime. I love feedback of all kinds, especially constructive. 

*Thanks to Chris for her always insightful and entertaining edits. Who'd a though one comment about Vancouver would lead to this?

*Thanks to Joy B. for her support and for not laughing too hard when a spelling mistake totally ruins the moment. Having you sitting on my deck editing this was such a wonderful thing. Hope to see you again soon.

*Thanks also to Ana, Lindsey and Dani, for your support and prodding in my writing and the rest of my life.

**Chapter 3**

*******

The gathering breeze coaxed the aspen leaves into a dance on their flatted stems, flashing their silver undersides in the late afternoon sun. A Great Blue Heron cruised silently above the surface of the lake, its long, thin legs trailing gracefully behind, before settling into a clump of reeds near the dock. The rattling of a kingfisher echoed across the valley as a blur of flashing wings fluttered from one tree to the next. The lengthening rays of daylight danced across the rippled water and streamed into the lodge windows, glinting off a wet plate as Logan handed the dish into Max's waiting hands.

After an early supper, Logan and Max had insisted on cleaning up the kitchen, leaving Maggie to tend to her patients and prepare the horses for the trip out of the valley. The couple now washed dishes in silence, save for the slosh of Logan's washcloth and the sound of rustling leaves through the window.To the outside observer, it was a picture of domestic peace, but the air between them hung heavy, brooding with unasked and unanswered questions. 

Logan's muscles tensed with each passing minute but not from his awkward position at the sink's edge.The afternoon's planning had not gone well. Max had grown more sullen as the day had progressed, Maggie kept pushing the idea of getting Logan on a horse and he kept brushing her off. With every rejection, he noticed Max stiffen and felt her retreat even further. He didn't know where he had gone wrong. He didn't kid himself; he knew he was the source of her anger, but he just couldn't figure her out. 

For the first time since he'd landed back in the chair, Logan had felt good. He had a purpose, and he and Max had been slowly slipping back into their old routine. He didn't feel like she was tiptoeing around him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. They had found their place with each other again, and Logan had felt, for the first time in a while, that things with Max were going to be fine. But then something set her off, and with each hour, he felt her slipping further away. Now, he cringed with every movement of her body. Logan could feel the tension rolling off her and the silence was deafening, like the proverbial calm before an encroaching storm. Normally he tried to avoid Max's wrath, after their fight that nearly had her walk out his door forever, but her refusal to speak fuelled his own frustration and he couldn't take it any more.

"Max. What is it?"

"What is what?" Max answered nonchalantly, inspecting a chipped plate especially closely.

"What's wrong?" Logan pressed, bracing himself for her eventual outburst.

"Nothing."Her voice was carefully measured, devoid of emotion. 

"Just tell me what's bothering you." Logan pleaded.

"What makes you think anything is wrong?"

"Max, for God's sake, stop being so childish and just tell me what's wrong."

At Logan's words, Max went rigid. A grim smile crept across Logan's face. He'd finally struck a nerve.

"I'm being childish?" Her voice was almost eerily quiet, controlled, as she trained her gaze out the window, her hands gripping the tea towel. "I'm not the one who's been moping around all week like the world's coming to an end."

Logan's back went up at her accusation. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dammit, Logan! You're the king of denial!" Max spun around to face him, her dark eyes blazing. "You'd rather blow your brains out than admit that something's wrong!" Days of pent up frustration, and fury brought on by fear, came pouring out in her words. 

Shame and dread crept over Logan. He didn't want to talk about his worst moment of weakness, especially with Max. He trained his eyes on the floor, afraid to see the disappointment in her face.

Max knelt in front of him in an attempt to look up into his face. She desperately wanted to know what had been going on in his head seven days ago, why he decided his life wasn't worth living anymore, why he hadn't realized how much losing him would've hurt her. He had scared the hell out of her, and she didn't like being scared.

"Logan," she continued, a little less harshly, almost afraid to ask the one question that had been haunting her for the last week. "Would you have done it? I mean…if you hadn't been interrupted. Would you have pulled the trigger?" Max braced herself for answer. For the second time this week, she felt an irrational fear seep into her bones. She was back in Dr. Vertes' office, staring at the psychological evaluation at the words _'despondent'_ and _'suicidal tendencies', _and all she wanted to do was to race across town to know that Logan was alright, that the doctor had been wrong, that the one person she turned to for strength and stability in her life wasn't coming unravelled before her eyes. The realization that she needed his reassurance that everything was going to be alright only fuelled her anger and frustration. Before she had met Logan, she had never needed reassurances from anyone. 

Still refusing to meet her gaze, Logan gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles were white. His voice barely a whisper, he answered her desperate query. "Yes."

Max felt like she herself had been shot. She staggered back to her feet and rose to her full height. "Dammit, Logan! What the hell is the matter with you?" She backed away another step. Her knees threatened to betray her as she held on to the counter for support. "Do you have any idea what you would've done? Death is final, Logan; there's no coming back." She fought to keep her voice steady as her emotions whirled into an ever-increasing storm. "What did you think you were doing, committing some noble sacrifice?"

Logan raised his head and met her gaze, his eyes cold with defiance. He was backed into a corner of his feelings he didn't want to face and he was determined to fight his way out.

"Max, you're a God-damned superhero. How could you possibly know what I'm going through?" he growled, trying to wheel past her, only to be stopped by her hand on his shoulder. He tensed visibly at her touch.

"I might be able to at least try to understand if you would just talk to me!" she spat back, uncaring of how far the sounds of their argument carried out the window. "Logan, I've always been open with you. I've told you things I don't even like to remind myself of." She suppressed an involuntary shudder at the realization of just how much she had opened her heart to the man seated before her.She also came to the realization that with all he knew about her and despite all the time they had spent together, she really knew very little about Logan, and her anger flared again. "But with you, I have to fight to get you just to talk." With that, her face softened, imploring him to open up, to help her understand why his pain ran so deep, why this life just wasn't enough anymore, and why she wasn't enough. "Why won't you let me help you?" She wanted to throw caution to the wind and wrap her arms around him and tell him just how much he meant to her. That if he had killed himself, he would have killed her too. Fear and pride, however, kept her words in check.

"Fine!" Logan snapped, but he too lowered his voice as he continued, avoiding her gaze like it would burn him. His arguments seemed utterly stupid in the light of day with Max standing in front of him, reminding him of all he held dear. His stubborn pride refused to back down from an argument, so he pressed on, "All I've worked for, all I ever wanted was given to me, dangled in front of me like a carrot, then snatched away like a cruel joke. I told you; nothing matters more to me than getting out of this chair. Nothing. Now, that'll never happen. I can't walk, can't run, can't dance, and I can't even do my own legwork. I literally am Eyes Only. I'm useless like this…" 'to you' he finished in his mind. His words sounded tired, but he was afraid to admit to her the real reason for his despair. He was afraid of the rejection he was sure he would face.

Max stared at him disbelievingly. She couldn't accept that just his loss of mobility was enough to kill himself. His eyes told her there was something more, and she wanted to call him on it.

"I've never heard such a load of selfish crap!" Logan recoiled from her words like he had been stung. Max's frustration returned with a vengeance. His words in the car last week had hurt the first time. This time around, they struck even deeper. "So you're saying you care more about your damned bodily functions than the people who care about you? There's nothing wrong with your mind…your heart…" She caught herself, still unwilling to wade into the emotional waters too deep.

"Since when did you care, Max? I thought it was all just phoney sentimentality."Logan knew he had crossed the line, but he wanted to hurt Max as much as she'd hurt him. But, before he could register her reaction, the palm of her hand collided with his face, sending him teetering.He opened his eyes painfully and found himself staring into two dark brown pools, cold with fury and clouded with hurt. 

"Fine," she seethed. Logan flinched; knowing the pain in her voice was his fault. "So why haven't you tried to finish the job?"

Despite the growing pain in his heart, Logan's stubborn head just had to have the last word, no matter how out of control things had become. "Because you and Bling won't let me out of your sight for five minutes!" he shot back, knowing full well it was a lie.

"You want to be alone?" Her voice was a deadly whisper and Logan felt fear return, only for a different reason. "I'll leave you alone." Max flung the wet tea towel at him with a tremendous force, spun on her heel and marched out of the kitchen.

***

Max took the steps to the second floor two at a time, her eyes clouded with the tears she had finally allowed to escape her lashes. She wasn't going to let Logan see just how much he had hurt her. Her mind was spinning and her heart felt sick. _'Did he really mean all that?'_ she kept asking herself over and over._ 'It was a just a stupid argument' _her rational side comforted. _'It just got out of control.'_ She chided herself for being so insensitive when he finally tried to share his fears. It had just seemed so ludicrous to her. _'Logan could never be useless, not to me.' _He was right, she couldn't understand what he was going through, but she desperately wanted to make him see how much he meant to her. Now she wasn't sure she'd be able to do that, let alone repair the damage from the last few minutes. She cursed her Manticore training. It had been drilled into their heads for years that emotions were weaknesses.For the last week she'd been riding an emotional roller coaster: fear, anger, relief and this strange tingling in the pit of her stomach when Logan had returned her hug that she was too afraid to name. _'Some perfect soldier! I'm too much of a coward to tell a man what he means to me, even if it could save his life!' _

Suddenly, as she reached the door of her bedroom, an uncontrollable wave of weakness washed over her, sending Max to her knees. She let loose a muffled cry of frustration as she felt the seizure take over. Hadn't she suffered enough indignities in the last half hour? But this was unlike all her other seizures. An overpowering nausea engulfed her and she fiercely fought the urge to vomit. Her skin went cold and felt like she was being prodded with a million pins and needles. Her mind began to fog over but the usual nightmares didn't come, only a disturbing empty blackness that threatened to overtake her completely. Shakily, she fought the darkness as she grasped the brass doorknob and heaved herself to her feet. Her breath came in short sobs as she dragged herself to the bed.

Her legs betrayed her yet again and she fell forward, landing halfway onto the mattress. Her body screamed out in pain, but she refused to call for help, not now. She flung her left arm out and felt around on the bedside table, searching for her bottle of tryptophan. Her fingers connected with the plastic bottle and she tipped it onto the bed. She had never lost control of herself to such a degree and she was terrified. Rolling onto her back, she grasped the bottle tightly in one hand while the other clumsily removed the cap. Finally, she tossed back a large amount of pills and swallowed painfully. Dropping the rest of the bottle unnoticed onto the bed, she lay back against the mountain of soft feather pillows and pulled the patchwork quilts up to her chin. Small rivulets of tears escaped her lashes as she closed her eyes and finally surrendered to the blackness.

***

Logan slumped back in his chair, frustrated and spent, clutching the damp towel. He turned back to the sink. The bubbles had long since dissipated and the water was now tepid. He reached in and grabbed a plate. As be brought it up to dry, he caught his reflection in the shimmering surface. He felt hot tears sting his eyes as their words from before washed over him and actually sunk in. _'You want to be alone? I'll leave you alone!'_ That was it; Max was leaving him for good this time. In one moment, he'd managed to destroy everything that meant anything to him, all for the sake of his pride. A cry of anguish burst forth as he flung the dish across the room and buried his face in his hands.

As the rattle of shattered crockery subsided, another softer sound met his ears… humming. Logan glanced up and watched Maggie stroll into the kitchen, humming happily to herself. Apparently oblivious to her cousin's state, she strode over to the far wall and hunkered down to clean up the pieces of the plate. As she worked, her humming bloomed into a song.

"_I am a rock. I am an island…"_

Knowing where she was going with this, Logan grumbled. "Maggie, I'm in no mood for pop-psychology à la Simon and Garfunkle."

Maggie ignored him as she stood up and grabbed a broom from the corner by the cook stove and swept up the remaining shards, still singing. "_I have my books. And my poetry to protect me_."

"Maggie…"

"_I am shielded in my armour. Hiding in my room…_"

"Maggie…"

"_Safe within my womb. I touch no one and no one touches me…_"

"O.K! That's enough!" Logan yelled. "I get the picture!"

Maggie stopped singing and shot him a glance over her shoulder. "Oh. Do you really?"

Logan stared silently at her, bracing for yet another argument, as she came around behind him. A sharp slap to the back of his head snapped him out of his thoughts. "Ow! What the hell did you do that for?" he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head.

"That," Maggie answered sharply, but grinning, "is for breaking one of my good dishes, and this," she continued as she swatted him again, "is for being a complete idiot."

Logan glared up at his cousin, still favouring the back of his skull.As she defiantly returned his gaze he sighed resignedly, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

"Look, Maggie…"

She immediately became serious again. "You were thinking about suicide?" Logan flinched visibly at the word. Her voice jumped up an octave as she continued. "Why?" She sounded like the little cousin he remembered from his childhood, the one he had shared all his secrets with. Looking at her now, he could see the pain and struggle of her relatively short life etched on her face; searching for the acceptance she never got from her family, fighting for a foothold in a male-dominated profession, surviving the pulse, fending off loggers and now losing Simon. She suddenly looked tired and fragile, something she had never been, and he mentally flagellated himself for causing her more pain now with his own problems.

Wishing he could drop the subject he answered, "You couldn't understand Maggie."

That was the wrong answer.

"Why? Because I don't know what it's like to be different? To be placated and patronized and looked at like I'm a freak? You're right, I haven't a clue what you're going through." Maggie fought to maintain her sense of humour. She didn't want to start another argument. "So you can't walk? So what?"

"I'm only half a man," Logan answered. The words sounded tired and hollow even to his own ears.

"Good lord! What is it with men always thinking with their groin? Must be all that testosterone." She was grinning fully now. Tapping Logan's head gently, she said "Your brain's up here, in case you've forgotten." Even Logan had to suppress a chuckle at her words. 

Settling herself cross-legged on the kitchen floor, she looked up at Logan expectantly. "So what's the real problem here? Let me guess. Max."

Logan immediately replied, "We're not like that."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Gee, that sounds familiar. What, did you suddenly become blind as well as paraplegic?" When he didn't answer, she continued. "Look, Logan, I've been hearing about Max for what, eight months now?" Logan nodded. "You haven't been able to stop talking about her since you met. Now that I see you two together, it's obvious that there's something there. You have this amazing woman in your life, who obviously cares a great deal about you and, for some unknown reason, puts up with your self-loathing crap. Thing is, if you keep pushing her away when things even get the least bit tough, one of these days she's not going to come back."

Logan winced as Max's last words to him replayed in his mind once again. "I think I may have accomplished that this time," he answered, lowering his eyes in defeat.

Maggie smiled. "There, I've made my point. This never would've escalated into an argument if she didn't care."

Logan eyes clouded with memories of all the moments he had wished he wasn't tethered to his chair, and they all centred on Max; walking in the park in the rain, the day she'd left with Zack to escape capture. Standing next to her on the beach, close enough to feel the warmth of her body, had felt more right that anything in his life, and now it was just a distant memory. "She deserves better than me, someone who can walk next to her, who can run with her…"

"Do I need to hit you again?" Maggie snapped jokingly, breaking him out of his reverie. 

"What?" Logan asked, as his hand flew involuntarily to the back of his head.

"Having functional legs does not a relationship make. Do you honestly think if Max had a problem with you being in a wheelchair she'd still be here eight months later?"

For the first time, Logan didn't have an answer. Maggie took it as a cue to continue. "Look, it's obvious that you two care for each other, probably more than either of you realize, but nothing's going to happen unless you get over this ridiculous notion that being paralysed means you can't have a relationship and be honest with her about how you feel." 

Logan could feel the fear seep again into his heart. "What if she doesn't feel the same way?" He wasn't sure he was ready to lay his heart on the table. He didn't think he could take another blow.

Maggie's eyes softened as she looked up at him. The sunlight streaming through the windows highlighted his face, picking up every plane and crevice and each individual hair in his ever-present five-o'clock shadow. In the golden light he suddenly looked older, tired, his eyes dull, the fire behind them extinguished by too many tears. She swallowed a growing lump in her throat as she realized just how much they had suffered in the last seven years. Maybe if they could get through this they'd be O.K.

Standing, she covered his hands with her own. "That's a chance you're going to have to take if you ever want to get anywhere with Max. I know it's terrifying, especially with what happened with Valerie, but you're a good man Logan, walking or not. You deserve to be happy. Just don't wait until it's too late."

Logan caught a brief flicker of sadness cross his cousin's face, like a cloud momentarily obscuring the sun, but as quickly as it appeared, it passed. Taking a deep breath, he caught her hands in his own and squeezed gently. "Thank you," he answered earnestly, then chuckling softly he joked, "When did you suddenly get so smart?"

"Must be all those degrees I have. I knew they had to be good for something," she answered with a grin, as she gently took the tea towel from his hands, smiling sadly at the damp spot that had formed unnoticed on his shirt. "Now go get some rest; I'll finish up here. It's going to be a long night."

***

The flavourful aroma of freshly brewed coffee lapped at Max's senses, dragging her back into the conscious world. She stretched her knotted muscles, alternately pointing and curling her toes, and rolled over towards the source of the odour.Her eyes still closed, she inhaled deeply. As the delicious steam filled her, one word came to mind: Logan. She found herself transported back to the countless quiet nights in Logan's immaculate living room silently offering each other company over a fresh cup of coffee, or a fine pre-pulse wine, both rarities in this broken economy that only he could provide.

As her eyes fluttered open, the image of his shining hardwood floors and the crisp lines of his furniture faded into the honey hues of pine panelling and the soft contours of patchwork quilts. Momentarily disoriented, Max shot up in bed and surveyed her surroundings. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the quilt as the memory of the last few hours came back in a wave, the anger and hurt from her argument with Logan to the pain and fear of her seizure.All of it washed over her and she shook her head violently, as if she could physically shake off her feelings.

She once again focussed on the steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table. A small piece of paper, neatly folded next to it caught her eye. It was sandwiched between the mug and a plate of what looked like oatmeal cookies. She couldn't help but smile as she surveyed the note. The handwriting was similar to Logan's but with more of a flourish, much like she would've guessed Maggie's style to be. She reached for a cookie as she read,

_Thought you could probably use a _

_bit of a pick me up._

_Let me know if you need anything._

_See you downstairs._

_ _

_M_

She sighed in appreciation as she bit into the soft and chewy treat. She reached for another as she washed down the first with a swig of coffee. Her snack finished, Max forced her reluctant legs to move and slipped out of bed, immediately missing its warm softness. A little unsteadily, she padded down the corridor to the bathroom. The sight that met her in the mirror stopped her cold. She looked worn, her face drawn with fatigue and the pain from the seizure, the trails of long-spent tears etched across her cheeks.

Sighing heavily, Mac closed her eyes as Logan's words once again assaulted her heart. _'Since when did you care, Max? I thought it was all just phoney sentimentality.'_ Of all that had been said and implied, those simple words cut like a knife through her soul. Did Logan really think that she didn't care… that she couldn't care? He had once called her a genetically-enhanced killing machine. Of course, he had been joking at the time, but deep down, did he believe it? Was there actually some truth to it?

Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with images from Manticore, of relentless training and drills and death. For a good part of her life she had been, in essence, nothing but a machine, going through the motions, but never actually living. Even after the escape, she was just surviving, like a hunted animal, always on the move to avoid detection, never becoming too attached, never having a home.

Something changed when she came to Seattle three years ago. Her desire to put down roots started winning the battles with her inbred fear of capture. She got a job. She made friends. She met Logan. She'd had guys in her life before, but Logan was different. Sure, he was an underground cyber-journalist crusading for the meek and that wasn't someone you just met every day. But that really wasn't what set him apart. He listened…he cared. He would look at her with those eyes that just compelled her to spill her heart out. She had never really let her guard down with anyone, not even Original Cindy. But Logan just kept hammering away at that armour, finding chinks that left her with these strange feelings boiling inside her, threatening to overtake her. Some nights when her looked at her, she felt like she was in heat. No matter how hard she tried to walk away. So, the truth of the matter was that she did care… probably more than she should. This genetically-enhanced machine had developed a heart and now it was breaking to think that the one person she would ever let see it believed it didn't exist.

Dipping her hands into the wash basin, she splashed some cold water on her face, snapping her out of her musings and washing away some of the fatigue. As the fog in her head cleared, she steeled herself for the coming mission, fighting to silence the nagging doubts in the back of her mind. 

After returning to her bedroom and slipping into her traditional black catsuit, she found herself at the top of the stairs. She couldn't seem to take that first step, afraid of what she might find in Logan's eyes when she faced him again. Taking a deep breath, she forced her legs to move. It was going to be a long night.

***

Logan barely registered his cousin's voice as she pointed out for the third time that evening, the route that she and Max would be taking out of the valley. The daylight was waning early. Incoming clouds were swallowing the sun and the breeze picked up ever so slightly, rustling the leaves outside more insistently. 

The living room was dim and Logan's mind drifted. The mournful strains of Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ wafted through the room from the CD player in the corner near the fireplace, adding to his melancholy. His heart felt heavy, his mind clouded with the image of the hurt in Max's eyes. He felt like he had after the last time she was walked out his door in anger. All he wanted to do was run after her, but that was the problem wasn't it? He couldn't run, not after her, not with her. All he wanted to be was normal, to be complete. 

_'You've never not been that to me.'_ The words teased at his reluctant mind. They were Max's words, spoken as he wallowed in his self-pity, knowing he was losing his ability to walk. Now they resonated in his head. Did she really mean it?

The soft creak of a floorboard behind him caught Logan's attention. Maggie glanced up from the map and smiled over his shoulder. Spinning in his chair, he was met with what, despite having seen it over and over again, left him breathless. Max stood in the soft glow of the hearth, sheathed in her black catsuit. The warm light radiated around her, making her look like a dark avenging angel, ready for battle. He dragged his wandering eyes back up to her face. She held his gaze, her face a study in control, though her chestnut-coloured eyes were bright with emotion.

Maggie's voice penetrated the heavy silence, sounding distant to Logan's ears. "I'll go get the horses and meet you both around front."

"O.K." Logan answered absently, barely noticing the click of the back door closing.His gaze never wavered from the dark figure in front of him. Time seemed to stop as Logan fought for something to say. She looked like a statue and for a moment, he thought he was dreaming. Then she spoke.

"Well, let's get this bitch over with."Her bravado was back, but he was sure he noticed a slight waver in her voice, which she quickly squelched.

Wanting desperately to regain some of the easiness between them, Logan ventured. "Thanks for doing this Max." His eyes implored her to hear all the words he didn't say. "Maggie really appreciates this."

Momentarily taken aback by his tone, Max quickly recovered. "Yeah, well, some of us don't just abandon the people who need us."

Logan flinched inwardly. He deserved that, but as her words sank in, he felt a flare of hope. _'Is she saying that she needs me?'_ Looking up into her chestnut eyes, he fought to see through the jumble of emotions raging there. As he lost himself in her gaze, the distant jingle of horse tack filtered in through the open window, announcing Maggie's return from the stable and ending the moment.

Logan sighed. "Well, I guess you'd better get going."

He thought he caught a flicker of disappointment flash across her face before she turned on her heel and led them through to the kitchen and out onto the back porch.

Maggie was waiting for them, two sets of reins wrapped around her wrist, attached on the other end to two horses, calmly ignoring Otus hot on their heels, panting eagerly, tail wagging, ears alert. The smaller of the two horses regarded the couple on the porch with some curiosity. She was short and stocky, but still attractive to behold, her coat a glossy blue-black. Her mane and tail were a thick and shaggy slate grey and her ample forelock nearly covered her dark inquisitive eyes. The larger horse was more aloof, a sleek dun-coloured mare with a nearly white mane and tail. Dark brown bands encircled her solid legs and a dark line parted her mane and ran down the middle of her back; almost as if it were painted. She held her head high, ears scanning in all directions. 

Max regarded the animals with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Now they were out of their stalls, they looked much larger.

Noticing her hesitation, Maggie smiled reassuringly. "Max, meet Freja and Sigrid, our transports for this evening."

Max approached slowly and Logan followed, easing himself down the ramp. He couldn't hide his developing smile at Max's childlike wonder at seeing such impressive animals. She stopped face to face with Sigrid, her gaze drawn by the horse's soft dark eyes. Maggie handing her a set of reins snapped her back to the present.

"Sigrid's yours tonight." Max smiled quietly in response. "She's a 4 year old Icelandic Pony.She's a nice horse for first time riders, calm, reliable and very sure-footed." 

Max still looked unsure as she fingered the reins in her left hand. Sigrid snorted softly and Maggie continued. "Go ahead and introduce yourself Max. Sigrid loves people. Give her a good ear scratch and she's yours for life." As if in response, the horse nudged her soft wet nose against Max's cheek, and she couldn't help but giggle at the ticklish feeling. Logan heart warmed at the rare sound.

Ruffling the mare's forelock, Max answered, "Hello yourself Sigrid."

In one fluid movement, Maggie pulled herself into Freja's saddle. Freja pawed the ground impatiently, anxious to get going.Turning to Max Maggie instructed, "O.K., Max, to get up, hold the reins in your left hand and place it on the horn of the saddle, that knob in the front there…"

Max did as she was told.

"That's it, now place your right hand at the edge of the seat and your left foot in the stirrup. Once you're ready, push off with your right foot and swing it over to the other side and sit down.

After a moment's consideration, Max swung herself into the saddle with her usual catlike grace. Logan smiled proudly. Max's face registered a bit of surprise as Sigrid shifted beneath her, but it was quickly replaced with a broad smile. 

Momentarily forgetting their past differences Max turned to Logan. "It's like riding my baby!"

Logan smiled back. "Only this one has a mind of her own."

"Ah, see Logan, you don't know my baby."

Chuckling at his cousin's obvious confusion, Logan explained, "Max is talking about her motorcycle."

Max pouted playfully, "She's not _just_ a motorcycle Logan; she's an extension of my soul."

"As you keep reminding me." Logan countered.

Maggie was reluctant to break up their fun as she was so happy to see the couple speaking to each other again, but daylight was waning. Clearing her throat, she spoke. "I stowed all the equipment in the saddlebags. We'd better get going while we still have some light to go by."

The couple nodded solemnly, suddenly serious. Logan wheeled closer to Max and tentatively touched her leg. Looking down at him, she could see his bright blue eyes clouded with unreadable emotions. 

"Be careful." He implored, holding her gaze, his voice just above a whisper.

Her flippant retort caught in her throat as he moved to press his entire hand against her leg and the warmth seeped into her. His eyes wouldn't let her go. She managed a weak smile and nodded.

Logan tore himself away from Max's eyes and turned to Maggie. "You too."

"Logan, you know I'm always careful. Besides I know these hills like the back of my hand." Maggie was never at a loss for a snappy retort for her cousin.

"That's not what I'm worried about," he answered, his expression grim.

"I've got her back Logan." Max answered.

Maggie smiled, and nudged Freja forward. "Alright Max, let's go. Give Sigrid a little nudge with your heels and I'll teach you the rest on the way."

Max complied and felt a small sense of loss, as Logan's contact with her leg was broken. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled as Logan as he waived them off before they disappeared into the shadowy forest.

***

Logan settled in again in front of his laptop. Instead of launching into his work immediately, he gazed past the screen at the sunset across the lake. The sun itself wasn't visible but it set the clouds in front of it aflame with swaths of orange and fuchsia. The girls had been gone for nearly an hour and would be about a third of their way to their destination.

Rubbing his weary eyes under his glasses, he turned his attention away from nature's spectacle back to his makeshift desk. He hated having to wait behind while the two most important women in his life put themselves in danger for his crusade. Releasing a deep breath, he ran his forefinger along the map of the valley Maggie had left for him, tracing their progress along the trail she had highlighted.

Suddenly, a floorboard creaked in the other room and Logan froze, every muscle in his body on alert.He strained his ears, listening for the telltale sound of footsteps on the old hardwood floors.Nothing. Just the rustle of leaves outside the window. Chiding himself for being so high strung, he returned to his work. 

Then he heard it again, a faint creak. He was sure this time. 

"Hello?" He called out, angry at the break in his voice.

Only a cricket answered. A sudden and insistent rapping at the window stopped him cold, his heart beating loudly in his chest. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Logan breathed a sigh of relief. It was only the branches of the old spruce out front dancing in the increasing wind. 

His heart rate slowly returning to normal, Logan decided to make a quick check of the ground floor. As much as he hated to admit it, thoughts of Simon's attack had him truly rattled, especially trapped in his chair without his genetically-engineered guardian angel. Quietly, reluctant to break the silence, he wheeled himself toward the kitchen. As Logan rounded the corner, he never saw it coming. A vicious blow to the back of his head sent him sprawling forward onto the ground. He flung his arms out to catch himself and gritted his teeth against the impact. Rolling over onto his back, his grasped the sides of his head, fighting to focus against the blinding pain and the stars spinning in front of his eyes. His glasses had skidded across the floor as he feel forward and he felt blindly along the floor for them. As the world stopped spinning, Logan strained to focus his unaided vision. He was met with the dark shadow of a figure above him. Before he could speak, another blow sent him spinning into blackness.

***


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head. But Maggie and the rest of the family as I have named them are mine and Gideon belongs to Chris. 

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: hhinam@hotmail.com

**Archiving: **Please ask first.

**Summary**: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble. 

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble, but this story has taken on a life of its own heading off in a completely different direction from the show.

**Author's notes:** I'm so very sorry this chapter has taken so long, especially with the cliffhanger I left you with last time. Between my trusty beta's and myself, we are very busy people and this had to take a back seat to some of life's challenges. I really am flattered that there are people out there reading this. I'm sorry to say this, but the length of time between chapters could get worse. Although I'm well into chapter 5, I'm about to move across country to a completely new life that's going to require most of my attention. But I promise you I _will_ finish this. I like the way this story is turning out too much to let it drop. So hang in there! Drop me a line anytime. I love feedback of all kinds, especially constructive. 

*Thanks to Chris and Joy B. for taking time out of their busy schedules to give me their opinions on this. It really means a lot to me. Also thanks Chris for letting me borrow Gideon. Now you have to write his story for me.

*Thanks also to Ana, Lindsey Danae and Jude for your support, friendship and prodding in my writing and the rest of my life.

***

            The tops of the spruce trees swayed in the mounting wind as the clouds darkened, marching across the sky from the northwest. In the band of sky at the horizon that had not yet been engulfed in grey, the sun made its last dazzling appearance of the day, bathing the valley in its crimson glow.

            They were about a third of the way out of the valley, following the path to the north end of the lake, along the ridge. The towering trees creaked every now and then as the wind nudged at their trunks.  Among the rustling leaves, Swainson's Thrushes and robins added their fluid warbles to the evening chorus of wood frogs. A loon on the lake sent up a low wail that seeped into every crevice of the valley. 

            Max inhaled deeply. The air was crisp, typical of late spring, with a hint of moisture that intensified the smells of the surrounding forest, the pungent conifers, damp moss and leaf litter, mixed with the subtle perfumes of bog violets and wild strawberry blossoms. As the breeze caressed her cheek, Max decided she was as close to heaven as she was going to get. 

            As if hearing her thoughts, Maggie spoke. "Not a bad night, huh?"

            Max snapped out of her moment of introspection. Turning to Maggie, she smiled. "Beautiful."

            The older woman returned her smile, before her face darkened somewhat. Tilting her head skyward, she continued, "I don't think it's going to last though. Those clouds mean business." 

            Max was distracted by the jingle of a collar as Otus bounded ahead of the horses, tail wagging, sniffing after a poor besieged moth. 

            "Otus come." Maggie commanded and the dog stopped short and dutifully returned to keep pace with Freja and Sigrid.

            "Are you sure Otus is going to be up for this?" Max asked carefully as she tried to make her concerns about bringing the dog known as gently as possible. She didn't like unpredictable variables and Otus was definitely one. 

            Maggie's smile returned. "Don't worry Max. He's an excellent watchdog. He'll hear anything coming long before we do."

            Max nodded and caught herself before she responded _'I could do just as good a job.' _She was still toying with the notion of telling Maggie the truth about her past, but she didn't want to start the conversation with _'I can hear as well as your dog can.'_

            Searching for a subject, Max blurted out, "Logan never told me about you," and immediately regretted opening her mouth as a brief flicker of melancholy marred Maggie's features only to vanish as quickly as it had come.

            Logan's cousin let out a soft chuckle. "I'm not surprised."

            "Maggie, I'm sorry… I didn't mean…"

            "No Max, it's okay." Maggie turned in the saddle to face the younger woman who looked like she wished the earth would swallow her where she sat. Grinning, she continued in an attempt to put Max out of her misery. "It really is okay. I really didn't expect him to tell you about me. Logan's an expert at skirting the issue of his personal life. He'll get you to tell him your entire life story down to the colour pyjamas you wore when you were six, but ask him about his past and he'll clam up before you can blink."

            Max stared back, speechless, realization dawning across her features. "You know, I'm not sure I know much of anything about Logan's family beyond those I met at the wedding." A flash of anger ignited her eyes for a brief moment. "All this time and he's never told me anything…" she mused more to herself than anyone.

            Maggie laughed. "He slipped under your radar too huh? Trust me, we're related. I know his tactics all too well."

            Max didn't answer as she realised just how very little she knew about the man she just couldn't walk away from. He knew everything about her. _'Well almost everything' _and she hadn't even known his parents' names until yesterday.

            Maggie continued, lost momentarily in her own thoughts. "Considering all he's been through, I don't blame him for not wanting to talk about it, but he's got to let some of this out, or it's going to kill him…God, it already almost did." Earlier, Maggie had refused to let Logan see just how much the knowledge of his attempted suicide had affected her. But now, she couldn't keep the fear from creeping in, casting a shadow over her heart and the only way she knew to deal with it was talking. So she rambled, totally unaware of her company.

            "I mean… does he have any idea what he would've done… to me? Oh God, if I had lost him…"

            Max's heart clenched painfully in her chest as she listened to Maggie put a voice to all of her fears from the last week, but it was her next words, barely a whisper, that stopped Max cold.

            "Like father, like son."

            Unable to control her curiosity, Max spoke up. "Maggie, what are you talking about?"

            Misunderstanding the question, Maggie snapped back into reality. "Oh Max, I'm sorry. I overheard your argument. I guess I'm just a little shaken by all of this. I can't believe Logan was so close to…" Her eyes widened as a horrible though hit her. "You would've been the one who found him? Wouldn't you?"

            Max swallowed painfully at the memory of what had been racing through her mind as she took the stairs to Logan's penthouse at lightening speed, and nodded mutely.

            Maggie sighed wearily and mused, "What the hell was he thinking?"

            Max couldn't answer. Her mind and heart whirled with emotions. She was overwhelmed with this sudden desire to know as much about Logan as she could. She desperately wanted to understand him. She felt lost watching his world unravelling around him when she didn't know how to help. Hell, she didn't really know where to start.

            Again, as if she could read her thoughts, Maggie ventured. "He's never told you about his father." It was more of a statement than a question.

            Max shook her head in response, hoping she would continue.

            "You know, this is not my story to tell, but considering what he's put you through in the last little while, you deserve to know where he comes from." Maggie smiled ruefully. "And I think my cousin needs a bit of a push in the right direction."

            Max's heart sped up ever so slightly in anticipation as Maggie took a deep breath, trying to decide where best to start.

            "Owen Gregory Cale, Logan's father, was a great man in many senses of the word."

            The forest faded around her as Max listened intently to Maggie's story.

            "Although he and his brother Jonas, my father, were born to privilege, a long line of old money, Owen refused to sit idly by and enjoy the trappings of wealth. He was very bright and a firm believer in hard work. While still a young man in the late nineteen-seventies and eighties he founded Cale Industries, which quickly became one of the most successful computer hardware companies in North America… heck the world at one point. All the while, there was Uncle Owen at the helm, always thinking, always working on new ideas."

            "I guess I know where Logan gets his work ethic from." Max muttered to herself.

            Maggie smiled absently in response and continued. "He was an imposing man, tall, with broad shoulders and a commanding presence. His shining blue eyes that would blaze at you when he was angry softened easily with a smile and twinkled with a laugh, especially around children. Despite his generally kind and fair nature, very few would ever dream of crossing Mr. Cale as he was as stubborn as he was intimidating."

            Max couldn't help but grin as she realized just how well Maggie had just described Logan. 

            "It was at a company Christmas party that he met Logan's mom. Eleanor Anne Kindred had been hired as the singer that night. The moment she walked out into the spotlight, Owen's entire world faded, save for the dark Irish beauty before him."

            "Wait a minute, Logan's mom was a singer?" Max asked incredulously.

            Maggie grinned at Max's surprise. "Yep, and a damn good one at that. That's where Logan gets all his musical talent from."

            Max started dumbly back at the woman riding next to her. Maggie let out a chuckle. "You've never heard him sing, have you?"

            "No… I…I…" Max was desperately trying to come to grips with this new information on her best friend.

            "Well, then you haven't lived." Maggie answered with a wry smile. "We'll have to remedy that when we get back."

            As the shock wore off, Max grinned back devilishly at the prospect of teasing Logan with this newfound knowledge of his talents. Suddenly, the memory of their fight earlier reared its ugly head, dashing her playful mood. Glancing at Maggie, who was still chuckling softly at her own story, Max felt her heart warm to this interesting woman. She was enjoying the closeness that she felt to Logan's cousin. Maggie made her feel welcome, like one of the family she so desperately wanted to be a part of. She made Max feel like a sister. She only ever had that feeling once with someone outside of Manticore, Original Cindy. _'Too bad I'm pretty sure Maggie and I play for the same team. I'm sure Original would've been interested in kickn't it with her.' _Max bit back a laugh as the thought crossed her mind. __

            Maggie's voice as she continued her story brought Max out of her musings. "Owen never spoke to Eleanor the night of the party, but he was determined to find her again. He did, but their courtship wasn't an easy one. Eleanor refused to believe for a long time that she was anything more to him than a charity case and the Cale family was far from supportive of Owen's new attraction. After a turbulent two years, they got married and moved out into the mountains, hoping for their happily ever after."

            Maggie paused for a moment and considered her surroundings. They had left the lake behind and were following the Spirit River Canyon, rising steadily as they travelled north to a narrow point in the surrounding mountains. It was completely dark, but Max could make out her environs. Peering through the tree trunks to her right, she was met with the walls of the canyon sloping steeply on the other side, blanketed in a dark mantle of trees. Below, she could hear the rushing gurgle of the river as it wound along the valley bottom, on its way to the lake. The clouds had completely overtaken the sky, hiding the stars behind their depths. Only the faint glow of the moon faded in and out of view as the clouds skated swiftly overhead. The wind periodically rattled the branches of the surrounding firs. The raucous chorus of wood frogs stopped suddenly as the horses sloshed through a shallow puddle.

            Maggie steered Freja to the left and led them along the narrow path as it curved away from the canyon's edge. Settling herself in the saddle, she continued. "Owen and Eleanor did live the fairytale… for a while. They built a beautiful home on the western face of the Cascades and raised the picture-perfect family of three gorgeous children." In answer to the question in Max's eyes, "Logan's the middle child"

            Max stared back speechless at the discovery of siblings she never knew Logan had.

            With a grin, Maggie answered her silent query. "You'll have to ask Logan for details, but his brother Gideon is a little older and his sister Agnes is actually quite a bit younger."

            Max got the feeling that Maggie was holding something back, but she wasn't going to press the issue. 

            "I'm two years younger than Logan and they started sending me over for visits almost as soon as I could walk." Maggie continued with a faint shake of her head, as if trying to cast off old ghosts. "And for a long time, things were good. The house was always full of us kids, the great smells of Aunt Eleanor's cooking, laughter and music. We would sit around the piano in the parlour, because they had rooms like that in those days, and just sing." The diffuse moonlight lit up her eyes as Maggie smiled wistfully at the memories of her childhood. 

            Max felt a smile tug at her lips as the images danced around her senses. The perfect American family, like those Norman Rockwell paintings Logan was always trying to save. She could feel herself standing outside the window, looking in as Logan and his brother playfully taunted their sister and Maggie, with their mother at the piano, reigning over the chaos and their father in his big easy chair in the corner, pretending to read the newspaper, but surreptitiously sneaking glances and smiling at the commotion. As Maggie continued to relive her childhood aloud, Max could see it all in her mind: horseback riding in the hills, baking Christmas cookies and decorating the tree, Logan taking piano lessons from his mom, he and Maggie climbing the Silver Maple next to the stables. Despite her best efforts at detachment, Max's heart warmed to the memories. It all seemed too good to be true, safe and inviting.

            _'Nothing like where I grew up.'_ Max mused. But, as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she was hurled out of the warmth of Maggie's memories back into the cold grey abyss of Manticore. She was now shoulder to shoulder with her siblings, standing at attention, while Lydecker glowered over them and white-coated doctors hovered in the shadows, like vultures waiting for the next kill.

            She was only jarred out of the depths of her nightmares when Sigrid stumbled over an exposed tree root. As she shook her head to clear her thoughts, Max felt Maggie's eyes on her. Turning, she met her gaze in the darkness.

            "You O.K.?"

            "Yeah," Max mumbled almost inaudibly as she broke the stare. "My mind wandered."

            Maggie nodded thoughtfully. Taking a deep breath, and tightening her grip on the reins, she went on. "Unfortunately this fairy tale doesn't have a happy ending."

            Max noticed the change in the timbre of Maggie's voice and wondered if it was foreshadowing of the story to come.

            "Things started to change as the boys got older and went off to college. Soon Gideon wasn't the bright-eyed little boy, eager to follow in his daddy's footsteps. He had his own ideas and they clashed terribly with those of his father. Whenever the family was together on the holidays, everyone, including Logan tried their best to stay out of the way, but soon the tension spread through the entire house.  It all came to a head on Christmas break in Gideon's senior year of college. Father and son fought viciously and Gideon walked out and never came back. Logan witnessed the whole thing and although he was angry at his father for driving away his brother, who he loved very much, he was terribly angry with Gideon for just giving up when things got tough."

            Max swallowed with difficulty. She knew full well the pain of losing a sibling. She had lived through it more than once.

            "Unfortunately Gideon's leaving did nothing to alleviate matters. Uncle Owen turned to Logan to fill his shoes. Logan had always worked hard to please his father, learning everything his could about computers and taking the odd business course while studying at Yale, but his first love was always writing. He wrote gorgeous poems and songs, a talent his mother always encouraged. But Owen had other ideas. He could feel his chance for a family legacy slipping through his fingers, so in his frustration, he lashed out. He knew that his could goad Logan into just about anything. He belittled Logan, calling writers weak, that they did nothing useful but sit back and spew phoney sentimentality, daring him to get a 'real job'." 

            The words cut through Max's heart like a knife, gouging a fresh wound. She had no idea how deep Logan's scars ran. 

            "He taunted Logan, threatened to disown him if he didn't carry on the family business and having already lost his brother, Logan couldn't stand the idea of losing any more. He lived off the affection of his mother and he couldn't dream of being without that. I was away at Cornell at the time and I still have the letters he sent me. He was so confused. He had never known a life outside of the comfort of his family. Even college hadn't been much of a challenge and now he had to choose between losing his family as an expense for following his dream, or throwing it all away for the sake of his father. In the end, Owen won and Eleanor would never completely forgive him for that. She knew her son was a brilliant writer and she resented Owen for making him give it up."

            "Then the pulse hit and all hell broke loose. Overnight, Cale Industries plummeted to nearly rock bottom. My father Jonas slipped in like a vulture and though he saved it from the brink, he also started inching it little by little out of Owen's grasp."

            Maggie snorted with obvious disgust at her father and Max again marvelled at how people like Jonas and Margo Cale managed to produce a daughter like Maggie. Logan's cousin continued, measuring her words carefully.

            "Then the last straw came down. In the months after the pulse, Uncle Owen started showing signs of some sort of problem. His balance was off and his memory was spotty in places. Everyone attributed it to stress, but it only got worse. Aunt Eleanor finally dragged him to a doctor, where he was diagnosed with Primary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis. The doctors figured he might have had it, undetected for nearly two years. Now, there wasn't much they could do. They tried every treatment in the book, but the disease continued to progress and after just a year, the Great and Powerful Owen Gregory Cale had been reduced to a frail man in a wheelchair who had a great deal of difficulty controlling much of his body. Finally, unable to deal with his current state, Uncle Owen waited till a rare snowy evening, January 21, 2112, when everyone was out of the house and ended his life with about two-dozen sleeping pills"

            Max tried unsuccessfully to stifle a gasp as it all hit home. Logan had been ready to give up, just like the rest of the men of the Cale family.

            "The maid found him and Aunt Eleanor got the call from the local sheriff. She raced home from a performance she was giving at the senior's residence in town. She never made it. The roads were icy… there was fog… she was probably crying…"

            Maggie's voice broke as she trailed off, unable to finish. Tears were flowing freely down Max's cheeks, drying to cools trails in the gathering breeze. Why hadn't Logan told her any of this, after all they'd been through? All the times he had helped her through the pain of her past, he had been carrying around this terrible weight. All that pain, bottled up for all these years. Had he told anyone? Bling? Valerie? Her mind was so full of questions that she barely registered when Maggie started to speak.

            "Logan was devastated, to say the least. He had just lost everything that mattered to him. Agnes was living the life of a senator's wife in D.C. and Gideon had dropped off the face of the earth. He felt so lost. I was the closest family he had and it didn't take long for Jonas to take advantage of that, turning Logan into the latest charity case, but really just trying to weasel the last pieces of the company out of his hands."

            Having met Jonas, Max couldn't say this surprised her.

            "Logan soon decided he wanted nothing to do with his father and quickly sold out, turning to the trust fund to maintain his lifestyle. He soon slipped into a depression. That's when Valerie came along. They met at one of Jonas and Margo's parties and she knew an opportunity when she saw one."

            Max snorted derisively. "A habit she apparently hasn't broken."

            Maggie shot up an eyebrow in interest. "You've met?"

            "Let's just say Logan needed a little eye opening." Max remembered how much she hated to have to hurt Logan with the news that his ex-wife was playing him for money… again.

            Maggie sighed resignedly. "All he's ever wanted is to be needed, and for a while Val gave him that. He just didn't realize it was the money she needed, not him."

            Max fought to ignore a strange feeling niggling at her heart and she forced herself to take stock of where they were. They had just cleared the crest of the pass and were on their way down, headed west. The forest had changed subtly. The ground was soft and moss dangled from the sloping branches of the firs. She tried to busy her thoughts with the subtleties of the environment, but that strange feeling just wouldn't go away. She was afraid to put a name to it, but her heart filled with sadness and the intensity of it scared her. She found herself feeling protective of Logan, wanting to see his brilliant blue eyes without the underlying pain that she now realized had always haunted them from the moment they had met. She desperately wanted to take that away, to show him that some people can be counted on not to stab you in the back and the feeling was at the same time terrifying and empowering.  Not wanting to relive the painful story of the divorce, Max turned to Maggie. "We both know how that marriage ended."

            Maggie's grin was hidden in the shadows. "Ah, so he did tell you something. Well, after that ended, his depression became worse than ever. I was so worried, that I came into the city as much as possible to see him and tried my best to drag him out to the station. Then out of the blue, came the epiphany. He was at an incredibly dull party at my parents' house that I had dragged him to for moral support, when he started listening to some of the conversations. The more he listened, the more he realized just how much corruption was really out there. The rich and powerful, are often a little loose-lipped about their conquests, especially when plied with enough alcohol."

Max chuckled from experience.

"Logan suddenly realized just how bad the poorer people had it at the expense of the wealthy few and it stirred an anger in him like I had never seen. He decided to use his position in society to weed some of the worst of them out. It started out as sort of a Robin Hood fantasy, one he's had since childhood, you know, rob from the rich to feed the poor, but it grew. About five years ago, he met Nathan Herrero, the editor of an independent newspaper, the Pacific Free Press. Logan was awed by the man and the power he wielded with his publication, bringing down crooked cops, politicians and other scum with sometimes just one article. Nathan took him under his wing and soon they became great friends. Suddenly he had an outlet for his talent and was possessed with this terrific fire in his soul. You could always see it in his eyes. He was finally doing something useful and good with the privilege he had been born to. With the help of Logan's bankroll, the paper grew, reaching more and more people, but something that inflammatory couldn't last. When Nathan disappeared a little over two years ago, Logan was again crushed, but this time he had an outlet for his anger. He went underground and started publishing anonymously. More and more people tried to reach him with their stories and he developed the Informant Net. Taking all he had learned from his father about computers, he created Eyes Only, the voice of the people, able to reach thousands in their homes but remain untraceable. Well, you know where it's all led. Actually, I was surprised to find out that you knew his secret. He's always been very careful."

Max couldn't help but grin at the memory of her first encounter with the masked crusader. "Well, it was a bit of an accident."

Maggie eyed the younger woman with mock suspicion. "Yes, so Logan has told me… many times."

Max shifted uncomfortably in her saddle under Maggie's gaze, but Logan's cousin let the matter drop for the moment. "Eyes Only gave him everything he'd ever wanted. He was writing and he was needed. I think even Uncle Owen would've been proud, though I doubt Logan would believe it.  Then, as you know, came the gunshot wound."

Max cringed involuntarily at the memory of the hover drone video. That image had replayed in her head countless times over the months. She knew Logan didn't blame her for the accident, but she wasn't so sure about herself. It was the main reason she went to find him at the hospital, but the guilt faded and strangely enough, she stayed. Max still didn't know what kept bringing her back. At first, she told herself it was the free food and information about her sibs, but here she was about eight months later, Zack had been found, her quest was no longer her life's purpose, but she still found herself climbing to the peak of Fogle Towers at Logan's beck and call and sometimes when she just wanted some company. She had always prided herself in her ability to remain unattached, but Logan got to her. She would turn herself in to Lydecker before she could walk out of his life and the realization was terrifying. 

Maggie brought Freja to a halt, causing Max to pull back on her reins in surprise, bringing Sigrid up beside her. Turning to look the younger woman in the eye, Maggie became serious. "You know Max, the day you came back after the shooting may very well have saved Logan's life."

Max was stunned. She opened and closed her mouth silently, searching for the right words. Before she could find any, Maggie went on. "I mean it. He was dangling pretty close to the edge there after he got out of the hospital and I wasn't sure how to bring him back. The minute you walked in that door, you gave him hope, that things might just work itself out, that not everyone in his life would let him down. You gave him a reason to get up in the morning and a reason to keep fighting, for the people of Seattle and for himself."

Maggie kept going before Max could have a chance to protest. "I'm not making this up Max. Logan's made it obvious in not so many words many times over."

Max finally found her tongue. "Why are you telling me this?" She was having trouble processing everything. Logan really thought of her that way? _'No, we're just friends, partners. We help each other out that's all.'_ The words sounded hollow to her own ears. She just couldn't believe that anyone could feel that way about her, this mixed up genetic stew, with more problems than she was worth.

It was Maggie's turn to chuckle. "I thought you guys could use a little push."

Dumbfounded at her blatant insinuation, all Max could answer was "We're not like that."

"Good Lord! How many times have I heard that phrase in the last few days? Think about it Max, you could be. Don't wait until it's too late."

Max was too caught up in her own whirling thoughts to notice the hint of sorrow in Maggie's voice.  Suddenly wanting out of her own head, she turned back to Maggie. "Shouldn't we get going again? We still have a lot of work to do tonight."

Maggie's grin widened. "Nope. We're here."

***

            As the world slowly came back into focus, a blinding pain shot through Logan's skull like a hot knife. Blinking wildly against the suddenly blinding light, he fumbled clumsily for his glasses. He breathed a shuddering sigh of relief as his fingers came in contact with one then the other intact lens. Dragging his glasses to his chest, Logan pushed himself up and leaned awkwardly against the wall. He cursed their uselessness as he straightened his unfeeling legs in front of him and settled himself into a seated position.

            As the debilitating pain began to abate, Logan realized the sun had set, meaning he had been out for at least a half an hour. Cold fingers of fear closed over his heart as it became obvious that he wasn't the target, but the means to an end. Scanning the room, he spotted his wheelchair lying on its side about six feet away, tossed aside like a forgotten toy. Swearing under his breath, Logan threw himself to one side and rolled onto his belly, supporting his weight in his upper chest and shoulders. He silently sent up a prayer of thanks to Bling for busting his ass all these months at his physiotherapy as he pulled himself along the cold hardwood floor. 

            His heart pounding in his ears, Logan reached the chair and righted it, bringing the wheels down on the wooden strips with a dull thud that echoed in the empty house.  Pulling himself painfully into a seated position alongside, he dragged the chair behind him and set the brakes. Measuring his breathing into deep, claming breaths, he reached behind him and gripped either side of the seat, wishing absently that he had bought a model with armrests. Groaning with the effort, he hoisted himself into the chair. After settling his legs into the rests, he sat back, drawing air deeply into his lungs, trying desperately to calm the rising wave of panic that threatened to overtake him as his thoughts became increasingly clear and he was certain that he knew where his attacker had gone to. Wiping away the sweat that had beaded on his brow, Logan released the brakes and made his way slowly back to his desk, fearing, but knowing what he would find. 

            There it was. Sitting out on the edge of his desk like a white flag, the map of Max and Maggie's route through the mountains.

            "Damn it!" he cursed to the empty house as he picked up the sheet of paper. Although he had no direct proof, Logan had a gut feeling that he had been attacked by an X-5 and now they had gone after Max and Maggie. He studied the map carefully, tracing the tip of his finger along the highlighted line that marked the winding path through the concentric circles of the contours.

            Rising panic threatened to consume him again as he realized he had no way of warning them. Clamping shaky walls around his fear, he reached for the mouse on the desk and activated his computer. The clock in the bottom corner of the screen read 9:13 PM. He'd been out for over an hour. The attacker had a hefty head start. He had to do _something_. 

            The branch of the old spruce tree in the front tapped relentlessly against the window, echoing the beating of his heart. Time was ticking away. He couldn't just sit there and wait. He gripped the wheels of his chair with frustration, his knuckles turning white as he wished desperately to be able to just stand up and run after them. 

            But that wasn't going to happen. Suddenly, his cousin's words floated across his muddled mind. _'You know Logan, there's no reason you can't join us in the charge of the Cale Brigade.' _Taking a deep breath and steeling his resolve Logan pocketed the map and steered himself into his bedroom. After rummaging through the drawer of the bedside table, he pulled out his gun. Holding the cool metal in his hand, he fought hard to banish the memory of the last time he had almost used it. Snapping out of his dismal thoughts, he hurriedly loaded the clip, secured the safety and rested the gun on his lap.

            Turning on his wheels, Logan raced to the back door and grabbed his leather jacket. Stowing the gun in one pocket and the map in the other, he threw the heavy coat over his shoulders and flung open the door.

                The wind was gusting now, rustling the new spring leaves in the inky darkness of the newly fallen night. The air smelled of rain. A flash of lightening lit up the clouds, as they skated across the sky, bathing the yard momentarily in an unearthly glow. As the low rumble of thunder echoed across the valley, Logan blinked against the darkness. His body still screamed with pain, but it would have to wait. Slamming the door behind him, Logan took off over the uneven gravel trail toward the stables.

***


	5. Chapter 5

New World, Old Ghosts

By Aquila 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head. Although I've created a whole bunch of characters these last few chapters I'm rather partial to, so please ask first.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: hhinam@hotmail.com

**Archiving: **Please ask first.

**Summary**: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble. I had someone point out to me that my stories seem like chapters in a larger work and in a way I guess they are. They basically go in chronological order. You can read them in the order of Unfinished, Pas de Deux, Walking on Water and this one, filling in the blanks with the show. However all of the stories stand just fine on their own.

**Author's Notes**:  My goodness how time flies. I promised I wouldn't give up on this story and I want to thank all of you for not giving up on me. I apologize for the wait. This one took longer than usual. Between my move and starting a new degree, things have been busy, but the momentum's still there and chapter 6 is in the works. Feel free to drop me a line anytime. I appreciate constructive comments. I hope you enjoy this.

Thanks to my overworked and under appreciated beta's Joy B., Chris and Jude for their help with this. Thanks to Jude for checking in on me now and then. Thanks to Joy for always finding my spelling mistakes and then having a good laugh (at least I'm consistent). Thanks to Chris for making tell the story of the horse.

Also, thanks to Lindsey, Ana and Danae for saying hi now and then and keeping me company and to all of you who wrote to encourage the next chapter.

**Chapter 5**

            The wind sang through the towering spires of Douglas Fir, rocking the massive trees on their pliable trunks. The wind had shifted and a storm was blowing up the valley from the southwest, bringing the strong scent of rain on the cool night air. A muted flash of lightening briefly backlit the hulking shadows of the next range of mountains on the west side broad valley. It was a much broader valley than the one they had just left.

            Through her extremely dilated pupils, Max surveyed the sawmill below her from her perch on a steep-faced ridge that dominated the western edge of the pass they had just crossed. The scene reminded her of the devastation that was her home in Seattle, a far cry from the pristine beauty of the hills surrounding the field station. The large complex was bathed in a dull orange glow from a smattering of halogen lights in the yard. It stood out like a blight on the dark forested landscape, cut off from the rest of the valley by barbed wire-topped chain link fences. The yard was filled with mountains of timber, piled in elongated flat-topped pyramids, stretching from one fence to the next.

            Among the rows of wood, machinery sat idle, like giant robotic praying mantises, their immense jaws hanging menacingly over the logs. On the south side of the complex, the main building loomed like a great lurking beast, smoke drifting lazily from its towering smokestack.

            Pulling her focus out to a wider field of view, Max let out a gasp as she took in the condition of the rest of the valley. Her eyes having become accustomed to the greater light afforded by the open area, she could now make out a checkerboard of gaps in the obviously once-continuous forest. Large gashes where the trees had been mown down stood out starkly against the velvety darkness of the remaining forest.

            "Not a pretty picture huh?" Maggie's voice brushed at her senses as the wind teased at the curls hanging loose on her shoulder. She had been so enthralled by the sight that she hadn't heard Maggie bring Freja up beside her and Sigrid.

            "One hell of a hack job." Max answered absently, still absorbing the view. The gaps stretched the length of the valley, climbing the steep slopes at impossible angles, like living wallpaper as far as the eye could see.

            "Clear cuts." Maggie answered simply with a hint of disgust colouring her voice. 

            "Huh?" Max turned to face her guide inquisitively. 

            "That's what you're looking at," the older woman explained, sweeping out her arm to encompass the scene below. "The most destructive of forestry practices, but unfortunately also the cheapest.

            "It looks like they just went in and mowed everything thing down." Max ventured, feeling a strange sense of loss at the thought of all the dense, almost magical forest around her being reduced to stumps.

            "That's exactly what they did." Maggie answered. "Ever since the invention of the chain saw, there have been clear cuts. For a long time, it was the most common forestry practice out there. Swift, efficient and cheap. Foresters got the biggest bang for their buck. Then after the first Earth Day in 1970, the environmental movement really started to gain momentum and people started realizing just what was going on in our forests. The started to realize that clear cutting might not be all it's cracked up to be. Oh sure, the trees grow back… eventually; but these forests in the Pacific Northwest did not evolve to deal with large-scale disturbances. Some of these trees are hundreds of years old."

            Max turned and gazed in awe at the massive trees behind her with a new sense of reverence. Hundreds of years, etched into their great trunks. She wondered at the stories they could tell.

            Maggie smiled at her look of admiration and continued. "Things in this area really started heating up when the Northern Spotted Owl was listed as threatened in Oregon in 1975 and then federally as an endangered species in 1989. That meant their habitat, by law, had to be protected." Maggie chucked. "Boy did that stir everything up. You had the loggers on one hand, who were mostly just trying to make a living, the so-called tree-huggers on the other trying to save an ecosystem and the biologists in the middle trying to figure the whole thing out. It was brutal: court battles, management plans, demonstrations, spiked trees, and not just a few dirty deals resulting in the destruction of thousands of acres of pristine wilderness. It went on for years."

            "All this over a bird?" Max asked incredulously.

            "It wasn't just the bird. The idea was to save enough habitat for the owl and in the process, you'd save enough habitat for the other species in the ecosystem." Maggie snorted. "The jury's still out as to whether the umbrella species method works, but the theory's better than nothing. They'd been doing the same thing with grizzlies, cougars, wolves and other large carnivores further east."

            "Ahh…" Max answered thoughtfully. She found herself fascinated by Maggie's story.

            Her entire life had been spent looking out for no more than herself, even after all this time in the shadow of the great Eyes Only. She was truly amazed and humbled to discover that there were people out there devoting their lives to looking out for an entire region. It seemed unfathomable to her to have to deal with such sweeping issues and problems all for something that could never thank you. But as she took in the whispering woods that surrounded her, she felt a pull at her consciousness that made her realize it was a job not entirely without its rewards. She stifled a giggle as it occurred to her that Maggie was the Eyes Only of the forest.

            "By around 2005, they started getting their act together. Biologists and foresters had finally started really working together to change the way things were done. Public pressure had a lot to do with it. The people buying the lumber and paper coming out of this region and other areas started caring about what was being done to the ecosystems to get that lumber and paper. Years of education and lobbying finally started to pay off and clear-cutting slowly died out. Instead foresters turned to selective harvesting where only some of the trees were taken and the owls and other animals were monitored."

            Maggie was smiling as she remembered the hard-fought successes of her colleagues, but almost immediately her face darkened. "Then the pulse hit and everything went down the drain. It all went to hell. Suddenly everyone was focussed on their own survival. The technology we used to monitor and enforce forestry practices was gone in the blink of an eye. Most people moved into the cities to try and get by. Bergstrom's company started buying out all the smaller stakeholders and took control of the area. Universities and regulatory bodies were in a shambles and in just over a year, everything we'd ever worked for was lost and we were back to this!" she spat, gesturing at the destruction.

            Max, awed by the passion behind Maggie's words, reached out across the gap between them and laid a tentative hand on her shoulder, marvelling again at the tremendous strength coursing through this rather unassuming woman.

            Shaken out of her memories, Maggie glanced sheepishly up at her companion. "I'm sorry. I really didn't intend to turn that into a sermon. I'll get off my soapbox now."

            Confused by the reference, but getting the gist, Max shook her head. "No… it's fine. I'm glad you did. I had no idea…" Smiling, she squeezed Maggie's shoulder. "You'd make a good teacher you know."

            A smile tugging at her lips, Maggie let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "What makes you say that?"

            Max's smile broadened in response. "Because you make people care about what you're telling them. Kind of reminds me of someone else I know."

            Logan's cousin couldn't help but chuckle, despite her grim mood. Suddenly, the moment was lost as thunder rumbled low over the valley, echoing off the rising slopes.

            "Dammit!" Maggie muttered under her breath as she turned her face skyward. "It's getting closer. Turning to Max, she continued, "Looks like we're going to get wet tonight; but I figure we've got a little less than an hour before it gets really bad."

            Max nodded, watching Maggie as she slid out of her saddle. Mimicking the other woman's technique, she dismounted, marvelling at the shaky feeling in her legs, and pulled out her small bag of supplies from the saddlebag. Most of the equipment: flashlight, binoculars and rope, were mainly for show. Max wasn't quite ready to explain to Maggie how she'd get over the perimeter fence without help. However, one piece of equipment was necessary: the radio. Clipping the device to her belt, Max felt an unusual twinge of worry about leaving Maggie alone on the ridge. She desperately tried to trace the source of her worry, scanning the area for anything… anything that looked out of place. Nothing seemed wrong.

            Pushing the unnerving thought deeper into her consciousness, Max turned to Logan's cousin. "Ready?"

            "As I'll ever be."

            Max frowned at the subtle waver in Maggie's voice.

            "You going to be O.K.?"

            "I'll be fine Max." Maggie smiled. "I've spent hours in the course of my research, standing around in the dark in the forest. I'll survive."

            Maggie's words really didn't help Max's state of mind at all, but they had to get this over with. "You got your radio on?"

            "Yep," the older woman answered, patting her hip.

            "If you have any problems… anything, call me." She tried unsuccessfully to hide the worry in her voice.

            "Same goes for you Max." Trying to lighten the mood and appease Max's obvious concern, she added. "Don't worry Max, Otus'll keep an eye on me." The big dog's tail thumped the ground enthusiastically at the mention of his name.

            Max forced a smile. "'Kay, I'll be back in an hour… tops." She just couldn't shake the growing feeling of foreboding that gnawed at her senses. She had to get going now or she never would.

            Suddenly, Maggie caught her hand as she was turning around. "Be careful Max."

            A true smile lit up Max's face as she squeezed Maggie's hand. "You've been taking notes from Logan." With one last reassuring squeeze, she turned and disappeared over the ridge.

"Someone's got to look out for you two," Maggie said to herself with a smile as she watched her go.

***

            The air, heavy with moisture, clung to Logan as he pushed himself at a reckless pace along the crushed gravel trail, oblivious to the pain that shot through him with every bump. As he rounded the corner next to the aviary, he gripped his wheels with a start nearly sending himself flying forward as Gabriel let out a tremendous "Whoop!" Wiping the beads of sweat from his brow, Logan stared at the stable before him as he collected himself, waiting for his heart rate to return to something resembling normal.

            The building looked almost menacing in the gloom of the yard, its roof rising to a jagged peak against the inky backdrop of the cloudy night sky. Doubts swirled in his mind as he focussed in on the door in front of him_. 'Can I really do this? Can I even get on a horse? Even if I find them, what am I going to do?'_

Suddenly, the thought of finding Max and Maggie as Maggie had found Simon reared up out of the deepest reaches of his subconscious and bombarded his senses with horrible images, spurring him forward. A week ago, he had been prepared to throw it all away, now he couldn't reconcile himself to the idea of losing all he had left in one blow.

Pushing himself the final few feet, he slid open the doors, relieved when they glided easily along their tracks. Thunder rumbled closer now.  Taking a deep breath, Logan wheeled himself up the low ramp and entered the darkened building. 

The earthy odour that permeated the stable was overwhelming. The weathered walls muffled the sounds of the gathering storm. The air inside was musky and still, save for the occasional shuffle of hooves against the dusty floorboards and the sudden abbreviated whinny from somewhere in the darkness. One sound, however, overwhelmed everything: that of Logan's heart thudding loudly in his chest, furiously pounding in his ears to the point he could've sworn the sound reverberated off the stable walls.

Snapping out of his stupor and desperate for a distraction from the growing fear and worry that threatened to paralyse him further, Logan set about looking for a light switch. Reaching out with his right hand, his fingers found what he was searching for and the stable was bathed in a soft glow. As his eyes adjusted to the light, his gaze was drawn to the nearest stall on the left, which had been converted into a large storage closet. 

As his hand closed over the doorknob, he was relieved to discover that his cousin still had some faith human goodness and had left the closet unlocked. Pushing himself into the dark space as far as the clutter would allow, Logan spotted his quarry, an old therapeutic riding saddle, rimmed with low bars on the back of the seat to help keep the occupant upright. It was lying on its side on top of a crate in the far corner of the storage room, blanketed in a thick mantle of dust from years of disuse… and completely out of reach.

"Damn it!" Logan swore to himself, which was answered by an explosive whinny from the stall behind him. If he didn't know better, he would've sworn the damn beast was laughing at him.

"Quiet Artemis, I'm about to put you to work." Logan muttered under his breath.

As he turned to give the offending horse a sour look over his shoulder, his eyes landed on just what he needed. A broom stood leaning in the shadows by the closet door. Flashing Artemis a sardonic smirk, Logan picked up the broom, and stretched it out toward the saddle. Straining from the blow earlier, he reached out as far as he could, the broom handle shaking with his effort to keep it steady. He released the breath he hadn't known he was holding as the wooden handle made contact with the metal bar and slipped under the rail. He'd hooked it.

Lifting it was another matter. Quickly taking one hand off the broom, he set the brakes on his chair and braced himself as he tilted the broom towards the ceiling. Painfully slowly, the heavy leather saddle rose awkwardly off the crate and with the sudden shift in weight, came careening down the wooded handle and landed in Logan's lap with a vicious thump, the safety stirrups clanking loudly against his wheel rims.

Gritting his teeth hard against the sharp pain that knifed through him at the impact, Logan dropped the broom. This was just the first step. Logan released his brakes and backed out of the closet. Dumping the tack on the floor beside him, he slowly spun on his wheels to face the horse that hopefully was going to take him  to the rescue. Worriedly he glanced at his watch, his heart stopping when he realised just how much time had passed. 

"You're just going to have to live without a currying Old Boy. There's no time." Logan whispered to the horse as he stretched up as high as he could to reach the bridle hanging next to the stall.

Artemis gazed down on Logan, his dark eyes glistening underneath his sooty forelock, betraying more than the usual amount of intelligence for a horse. The gentle giant held a special place in the Cales' hearts. Logan could remember the day Maggie had bought him. She did it for Louisa, at the time, Claire's 7-year old daughter. 

Claire Sigurdson had been best friends with Maggie for longer than he could remember. She and her family had been the Cales' closest neighbours, a modest farming family who ran an orchard a mile up the coast. Claire and Maggie quickly became inseparable, always mucking through the forest, exploring the hills on their ponies or coming up with ways to exact revenge on Logan and Gideon for their incessant teasing. The two girls were actually night and day, Maggie, short with her dark blond hair and the fiery redhead Claire towering over her.  Their personalities differed as much as their looks, but they always managed to get along, enjoying each other's uniqueness. 

After high school, Maggie went off to Cornell and Claire stayed behind and studied to become a teacher, which was how she met her husband William. Maggie came back for the wedding and the next year for the birth of their daughter Louisa. Logan's cousin became the infant's honorary aunt and loved visiting with her little niece when she came home for the holidays. 

"She was quite a girl wasn't she?" Logan murmured to the horse as he reached up and slipped the Hackamore bit of the bridle over the animal's nose. Memories washed over him of the charming little girl who brightened up the Cale family home her first Christmas, beautifully oblivious to the growing tensions in the household.

But Louisa wasn't like other girls. At the age of two, just one year before the pulse, she was diagnosed with Emery-Dreifuss Muscular Dystrophy, a very progressive form of the disease, fating her to a life shortened and made painful as her muscles slowly wasted away. The news was devastating to everyone, especially Maggie, but she was determined to help her friends make life as normal as possible for their daughter.

By the age of seven, Louisa was a bright and inquisitive girl. She loved to sing and draw pictures… and had been confined to a wheelchair for nearly a year. But she loved being outside. Claire would bring her up to see Maggie at Spirit Lake, where she was working on her Ph.D. The girls would spend hours on the lakeshore, either on the end of the long dock or under the twisted Douglas Fir that hung over a little cove nearby. From there, they would bask in the beauty around them; the rich smells of the forest, the warm gentle breeze off the lake, the cool water between their toes, the hum of the insects and the myriad of bird songs. Louisa loved it all and Maggie desperately wanted to show her more. 

So for her seventh birthday, Maggie gave her Artemis. He had been a stunt horse, trained for filmmaking to be calm in almost any situation, and possessed of a much wider array of abilities than most others of his species. His trainer had decided to retire and Maggie jumped at the chance to buy him. 

Logan felt every muscle in his back and shoulders cry out in protest as he strained to lift the heavy saddle over his head and onto the blanket he had already placed on the horse's back. Artemis was a big horse.

Too big for her, the slight seven-year-old had thought, but Maggie assured her she'd grow into him. Prior to the Pulse, the field station had doubled as a therapeutic riding centre for the disabled, a place where those who had problems with their own mobility among other things could experience the freedom of connecting with another living being and moving for the first time unaided. The program had died with the pulse, but the equipment remained and with a little Cale ingenuity and not to mention a little Cale money, Maggie managed to find Louisa a trainer.

Logan would never forget the first time he saw Louisa on that horse. Maggie had invited him up to the station to try and get his mind off his deepening feeling of uselessness that had consumed him after his divorce from Val and before he discovered his purpose as Eyes Only. She had told him she had a surprise. He had been surprised, all right. He remembered the pride that had crept over him as Louisa was led around the ring atop the massive beast. She just glowed with happiness and he found himself starting to think that just about anything was possible. After that day, the girl and her horse were nearly inseparable. Every weekend, they came to the station and she would ride Artie as she lovingly called him as long as they would let her.  But she never did grow into him.

Louisa never made it to her tenth birthday. Cardiac complications as a result of her disease claimed her life even earlier than most. Logan was sure that Maggie had never fully recovered from the loss. Never wanting children of her own, his cousin had taken such delight in being someone's 'favourite aunt' and losing Louisa was just as painful as if she had been her own daughter. The riding tack was put away in the back of the storage closet and the trainer was thanked for his services, but Artemis stayed. Maggie just couldn't let him go. He stayed at the station as Maggie's only reminder of happier times.

The saddle secured, Logan heaved a pained sigh, checked his watch again, fear gripping his heart at the length of time that had elapsed in readying the horse. He wheeled around to face Artemis. Taking the reins, he tied them to the handles of his chair. Brushing his hand over the horse's muzzle gently, he muttered. "Well Artemis, Old Boy. Maggie needs you again… and so do I."

Gripping the wheels of his chair with weakening fingers, he led the horse out of the lighted stable into the murky gloom of the yard. 

***

            Logan breathed a sigh of relief as Artemis plodded along behind him as Logan pushed himself up the ramp to the mounting platform at the edge of the training track.  He started as a clap of thunder rumbled low over the valley, announcing the approaching storm. The firs and spruces groaned loudly as they swayed on their massive trunks in the now howling wind. Logan spared a worried glance to the horse now next to him, but Artemis showed no signs of distress. 

            Releasing the reins from his chair and tying them to the support post of the platform, Logan eyed the saddle that was now at waist level with him with growing dread.  The horse stood still, but Logan knew that transferring himself to the saddle would be much more difficult than moving to something like a chair. Louisa had always had somebody holding the horse steady and her trainer by her side. Logan found himself wishing he had invited Bling along for this trip, but wishful thinking wasn't going to save Max and Maggie.

            Steeling his resolve, he pulled himself alongside Artemis' flank. His heart pounding in his chest was again making itself heard and he found his world narrowing down to focus on the sound. Forcing himself to slow his breathing, he placed his right hand on the horn of the saddle while he gripped the back rails with his left. His heart plunged into his stomach as the horse shifted slightly beneath the pressure.

            "Please don't move Artemis … please." Logan breathed. 

            As his heart steadied again, Logan sucked in a desperate breath and lifted himself off his chair and onto the saddle in one quick motion.

The yard was suddenly bathed in the unearthly glow of a flash of lightning and thunder exploded from the clouds. Artemis snorted nervously and pawed the ground, anxious to move. The sudden shift nearly sent Logan toppling backwards. Desperately he held fast to the horn and the rails willing his dead weight forward again. His fingers, weak from pain, threatened to give out, but Artemis shifted again and Logan was thrown forward, righting himself. His breathing was ragged, frantically trying to fill his lungs with much needed oxygen as his pulse pounded erratically in his brain. 

            Logan forced himself to recover quickly. He had already wasted too much time. Hesitantly, he released his death-grip on the saddle horn and clutched his right leg. Slowly, so as not to startle the horse, he lifted the immobile limb and brought it over to the other side of the saddle. He was straddling the horse now, his upper body forced forward against the Artemis' neck.  Straining against the ever-present pain, he reached down and clutching his left leg, he forced his foot into the stirrup. Repeating the action with his right foot, he pushed himself back and leaned against the rails behind him. 

            Though fear refused to release its hold over his heart, a small smile threatened to break from the corner of his lips. He could ride! Logan spared a glance at his watch. It had been a little less than an hour since he's regained consciousness. He _had_ to make it in time. Leaning forward one last time, he released the reins and with a solid nudge to Artemis' neck with his hand, he spurred the horse into action.

            They disappeared into the inky blackness of the forest as the first drops of rain splashed against the branches above them.

***


	6. Chapter 6

New World, Old Ghosts

By Aquila 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: hhinam@hotmail.com

**Archiving: **Please ask first.

**Summary**: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble. Just a few quick reminders: The entire storyline for this was sketched out over a year and a half ago and I haven't changed much since then from my original idea. So for any of you continuity freaks, remember this was started in the middle of season one and changes directions from the show from then on. 

**Author's Notes**: O.K., I apologize for taking so long on this, but it's been a busy year! Five months of fieldwork is not conducive to getting a story written. Add to that the fact that my trusty betas are busier than I am and the result is that things take a while. I hope it was worth the wait. It's actually still a bit of a work in progress as my betas and I are still tweaking, but I figured at the rate we're going we'd never get it up so here it is. I want to thank everyone who has stuck with this story.  I find it staggeringly flattering that anyone would follow a story for a year and a half! (especially at the rate that I post things). Have faith my friends, I will not abandon this story. I enjoy it too much. By the way, chapter 7 is about a third of the way done so hang in there.

Thanks as always to my trusty betas Joy, Chris and Mom, for making me think and for always being so supportive of my writing and every other aspect of my life. 

**Chapter 6**

            It was like walking through a minefield. Carefully, Max picked her way among the remnants of the massive trunks that littered the hillside like fallen soldiers from the day's battle. Even with her enhanced vision, she found herself stumbling in the deep trenches left behind by the machinery; trenches that were now hidden in the thick grass that was reclaiming the land around her. Stopping to gaze along the valley, Max couldn't begin to fathom how this razed land could ever return to the thriving forest it once was and the thought saddened her.

             A clap of thunder jolted her out of her reverie as the storm moved ever closer from the southwest. The ominous clouds, pitted against the inky sky, filled her with an irrational sense of foreboding. It was probably already pouring back at the station. Logan would be worried.

            Logan. Involuntarily, Max found her thoughts drifting back to their fight. They had lost control. She'd never lost control like that before and Max found herself reluctant to look for a reason, afraid she already knew what it was.

            She felt a sudden shiver wash over her like a wave as she remembered the feel of his hand against her leg. Every point of contact had tingled with his touch, even through the heavy leather of her catsuit. For that brief moment, his warmth had washed over her and she had to fight the overwhelming urge to surrender to it… to climb down from her saddle, crawl into his lap and stay there. But then she remembered his words _"Since when did you care, Max? I thought it was all just phoney sentimentality,"_ and she felt all her barriers going back up. Did he really believe that? Her attempt to reach out had only caused more pain. She wasn't sure she could do it again. Still, she couldn't ignore the connection that raced between them at the contact. It was overwhelming… and terrifying. She had been so close to losing him last week and that had scared her more than she was willing to admit.

            She had never felt this close to anyone before and to tell the truth, she had no idea how to handle it. They'd never exactly offered social lessons in her Manticore training. Until now, she'd been able to hide behind her 'female fog bank' as Darren had so eloquently put it. But Logan could see through the fog and for the first time, Max found herself wanting him to.

            Suddenly, a rustling in the grass down the hill to the south snagged her attention. Soundlessly, she dropped to her knees, disappearing in the tall vegetation. Heart racing, she waited, mentally preparing herself for the worst, every muscle in her body taut and ready. Knowing she was downwind from her potential target, she inhaled quietly and deeply, trying to catch a scent through the pungent odour of new grass and the promise of rain. Catching a whiff of some sort of animal, Max released her breath. It wasn't a guard. Slowly, she peeked over the tops of the blades of grass and found herself staring into a pair of dark, shining eyes. 

            Max stifled a squeak, rising to balance on her haunches, unable or unwilling to break her gaze. She sucked in a breath as a flash of lightning revealed the eyes were set into a body and not simply hovering over the grass. Re-adjusting her eyes to the light, Max felt herself bristle, the cat in her genome making itself known. It was a dog… but it was more than a dog. It was sleek and held itself with purpose, its eyes belying cunning and curiosity. Max was transfixed. It was beautiful. The closest thing she'd ever come to a wild animal were the gulls down at the harbour but this was… amazing.

            For what felt like hours, they regarded each other with a mixture of awe and wariness, until with a sharp huff, the animal turned and vanished into the night, the rustling of the vegetation the only evidence of its presence.

            Before she could continue with her mission, Max was stopped in her tracks by a high-pitched, mournful howl echoing off the valley walls. As the sound faded, it was answered by a chorus of howls to the north, filling the oppressive night with their music.

            "I guess I've just been welcomed to the neighbourhood," Max muttered under her breath as she rushed off to the plant.

***

            Maggie smiled to herself as the chorus of howls echoed across the valley. Coyotes. Sparing a glance at her canine companion, she stifled a small chuckle.  Otus was stock still, listening intently to his distant cousins below. Maggie welcomed the sound. The night had been too quiet. The encroaching storm seemed to hold the entire region in its thrall. The normal night sounds of the forest had been silent until now, as if holding their collective breaths in anticipation. 

            As the coyotes finished their conversation below, the night slipped again into an unnatural silence. Every muscle in Maggie's body was taut with wariness. The uncharacteristic worry in Max's eyes when she left and the eerie stillness of the forest had her every sense on a razor's edge. Eying Otus sitting next to her, Maggie felt a small tendril of warmth weave its way back into her mind, edging away ever so slightly at the worry. Her dog was at full alert, ready to protect them both. The realization allowed her to relax… if only just a little.

            Suddenly, a sharp thump sent her heart leaping into her throat. Her pulse racing, Maggie scanned the darkness, desperately trying to anticipate the attack. The sound came again but this time she felt it…and all the air in her lungs escaped in a long sigh of relief. One by one, big fat raindrops struck the top of her hat. Pulling the felt brim further over her face, Maggie forced deep gulps of air into her lungs in an attempt to steady her erratic pulse.

            It was going to be a long night.

***

            Heavy winds drove the rain at nearly a forty-five degree angle into the massive green spires, diving the lone man forward as he sped along the trail and deeper into the night. Rivulets of water streamed relentlessly from the drooping bows, soaking into the mossy ground and seeping down the collar of Logan's already drenched jacket. He suppressed a shudder as a sodden cedar branch lashed his face as the horse drove him forward, underneath the tree's canopy. Gripping the saddle horn tightly in an effort to keep from slipping of the trotting animal, he carefully reached up to wipe the droplets from his glasses with only marginal success. 

            Despite the horrendous weather and the ever-present fear that nagged at his mind, Logan couldn't help the beginnings of a giddy smile that threatened to overtake his features. He felt like he was flying!

            He couldn't feel where his legs touched the horse's flanks. It was as if one had become an extension of the other, like the centaurs of Greek mythology.  It was completely different than his wheelchair. Though he knew he was still entirely dependent on Artemis to move, Logan felt free somehow. The gentle sway of the horse as he loped along the trail, as fast as the conditions would allow, was almost soothing. It felt natural. Under other circumstances, he would have enjoyed himself, a rarity of late.

            Logan's sense of comfort was short-lived. A deafening crack of thunder brought his surroundings back into focus. They had already left the lake in their wake as Logan continued to urge Artemis along. For his own part, the horse continued to plough sure-footedly ahead, sensing the mounting urgency of his rider.

            His heart pounded in his ears as the forest closed in on either side. Shadows suddenly became menacing, reaching out icy wet tendrils that clawed at them as they pushed their way through the moss-laded branches of a recently-fallen tree that blocked the path. Flashes of lightning revealed twisted forms and the illusion of glittering eyes.  Thunder sent a shiver through both horse and rider and Logan fought to contain the dark foreboding that threatened to consume him. Pulling himself forward in the saddle, he urged Artemis on.

            They had to make it.

***

            She hit the gravelled courtyard with a soft 'thump'. Turning, Max smiled as she reflexively dusted herself off, pleased to confirm that she had not lost her edge and that clearing a 10-foot barbed-wire fence in one jump was still a piece of cake.

            The orange glare of the halogen lights was nearly blinding after the darkness of the valley. Moving with the grace of a cougar, Max slipped into the shadows cast by the mountains of logs and allowed her eyes to adjust. Noiselessly, she made her way along the wall of timber towards the plant, on constant alert for signs of trouble.

            The bulk of the storm was closer now. The air had cooled suddenly and thunder rumbled more insistently. Fat raindrops left deep imprints in the gravel yard. Max picked up the pace, the cat in her loath to get wet. As she rounded a corner, a flash of lightning illuminated the hulking form of one of the machines, its massive steel jaws glowering menacingly above the small woman. The crack of thunder followed almost immediately. It wasn't going to be much longer before the clouds burst. Steeling her resolve and making one last check for danger, Max covered the remaining distance to the main building with a tremendous burst of speed and flattened herself against the wall. 

            Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough. With another deafening roar of thunder, the sky opened up. Rain pelted down in cold sheets, running in rivulets along the cracks between the red bricks.

            "Damn it!" Max muttered under her breath as she searched the wall for her intended target, shielding her eyes against the driving water. Spotting the window, Max sprung up onto the ledge and in one fluid movement, dispatched the lock and slipped inside.

            The silence in the building was a shock after the roar of the storm outside. The atmosphere was still and heavy. Dust filled the air, flickering like tiny stars in the light filtering in from outside. The smell of sawdust and machine oil filled her nostrils. Bergstrom's operation was rather dated, with main offices immediately adjacent to the mill. The plant had been built long before architects had started separating the pencil pushers from the log drivers, building the sterile, clean offices that had characterized forestry companies that had cropped up before the pulse.

            Crouching silently in the shadowed corner of the hallway, Max trained her ears for the sound of any unexpected guards. Maggie had been pretty sure the plant was left unguarded at night, a symbol of Bergstrom's air of invulnerability that he so loved to flaunt. But, Max didn't like to settle for even the slightest uncertainty. 'Pretty sure' had left her in hot water before.

            Reassured by the oppressive silence of the building, she pulled a small towel out of her knapsack and quickly moped up the water beaded on her catsuit and rubbed the excess water from her hair. Finally, Max cleaned up the puddle she had made on the floor before returning the towel to its place in her bag.  It wouldn't do any good to leave a trail of muddy footprints that even a child could follow and besides, the cat in her insisted on being as dry as possible.  The only drawback was the room now had a clean spot underneath the window. Couldn't be helped.  With luck, no one would really notice.  Satisfied with her efforts, she made a beeline for Bergstrom's office. She was nearly to the door when it hit.

            A debilitating wave of nausea sent her staggering, as she bit back a gasp. Max raised a shaky hand to the back of her head in a futile effort to stem the hot lance of pain that shot down her spine. Convulsing violently, she toppled forward, crying out as her kneecaps connected with the unforgiving linoleum, sending jolts of pain along her already oversensitive neurons. Tears leaked from her tightly closed eyelids as Max struggled to regain control.

            _'It's just another damn seizure'_ she repeated weakly in her mind, as if the thought alone could bring her out of the red haze of agony that threatened to consume her.

            Blindly, she brought a handful of tryptophan from her pocket to her lips and forced herself to swallow, nearly crying out as the pills pushed their way past the constriction in her throat. Slumping against the door to Bergstrom's office, Max willed her faculties back to normal. The image of Maggie waiting for her alone on that ridge floated across her dazed mind, stirring the dark foreboding that refused to be stamped down at the thought of leaving her there. The strength of the feeling began to focus her scattered thoughts as the tryptophan began to take effect. 

            Painfully slowly, she narrowed her mind to that one thought. She had to get back to Maggie… now. Her hands began to still and her breathing deepened, filling her lungs with almost cleansing rushes of oxygen. Gradually, Max blocked out the pain, drawing all she could from her Manticore training. Carefully, she lifted herself to her feet, determination warring with the nearly overwhelming desire to sink into oblivion and escape the pain. Damn it, she was going to finish this.

***

            The rain-soaked boughs of Douglas Fir swayed heavily in the driving wind. The loud groaning of their trunks could barely be heard over the pounding of the rain and the intermittent rumble of thunder.  Maggie sat sullenly under a leaning trunk, peering through the wall of water for any sign of Max coming over the ridge.

            _'Let's just get this damn night over with. I'd give just about anything to be home, curled up in a warm dry bed.'_

            Home. Her thoughts drifted back to the station and Logan. Sighing heavily, Maggie recalled the look on her cousin's face as she and Max had ridden off into the sunset, so to speak. She knew it drove him nuts to be left behind, but he hadn't accepted any of her offers of help, so they had had no choice. Still, the wait must be killing him. It was killing her.

            Maggie normally prided herself on her patience. Normally, she could sit for hours watching a bird or studying some other wildlife, but tonight she couldn't escape the restlessness. Even in its release, the storm bore down on her, reducing the range of her senses and increasing her edginess with each flash of lightning. The din of the rain and the roar of the thunder made it nearly impossible to detect an approaching intruder.

            Compulsively, Maggie glanced at her watch, only to find it one minute later than when she had last checked. Sighing, she brought the timepiece to her ear. Still ticking. Time itself had slowed to a crawl.  She shuddered in disgust as an icy droplet of water, freed from the confines of her braided hair, trailed its way down the collar of her raincoat, under her flannel shirt and then to the small of her back, leaving a cold trail in its wake.

            "I think I've had just about enough rain to last me a week, huh Otus?" Maggie muttered to the sodden animal crouched at her side. The dog looked up forlornly at the sound of his name then dropped his head heavily back down onto his paws. 

            But the storm showed no signs of abating and Max wasn't due back for another ten minutes. Raising the collar of her raincoat against any further icy invasions, Maggie settled under the log to wait.

            Then she felt it.

            The hair on her arms and the back of her neck suddenly stood at attention. Someone was near.

            Otus snapped to full alert with a soft woof, sniffing the air, trying to isolate a scent in the soaked atmosphere. Maggie's heart kicked into overdrive as she watched her companion, searching the darkness for the source of the discomfort amid the chaos of the storm. Slowly and silently, she edged her diminutive form further into the shadows under the massive log, shrouding herself in the ferns trailing over the ancient wood. Tapping into all her training as a naturalist, she sat stock still, straining her ears through the noise of the storm for any signs of an approach but she knew in the back of her mind that if Otus couldn't hear anything, neither would she.

            Suddenly, Maggie's heart leapt into her throat at the sound of rustling in the nearby underbrush. Forcing herself to breathe silently through her nose, she reached for her belt. Trembling fingers clutched at the hilt of her hunting knife, a flick of her thumb releasing the clasp that held it in place. From what Max and Logan had told her, she knew she was no match for these soldiers, but damned if she wasn't going to go down fighting.

            Another rustle … closer this time. The horses tethered nearby shifted nervously; their soft whinnies heightening Maggie's apprehension. They were sitting ducks and she knew it. Drawing her knife from its sheath, she waited for the coming blow. The world around her narrowed, the roar of the rain fading behind the relentless pounding of her heart and the rustling in the bush that now seemed to be circling her, coming closer… closer… Maggie braced herself as she felt the presence nearly on top of her, one hand clutching the knife, the other holding Otus silent, praying against hope that they had still not been discovered. Giving into the overwhelming fear, she closed her eyes waiting for the attack and … nothing. 

            The sigh of relief died in her lungs as a small but strong hand closed over her throat. Panicked, her eyes flew open and she instinctively swung the knife in her right hand up from its place at her hip, slicing her assailant's outer wrist.

            An angry shriek cut through the din of the storm, as yet another crack of thunder rocked the valley. But instead of releasing its grip, the hand tightened, slowly closing off Maggie's air supply. Gasping frantically, Maggie was flung forward through the sodden ferns and into the open, slamming into an exposed rock with a sickening thud. The knife she had been so desperately holding on to was knocked out of her hands by the impact, coming to rest in the ferns at the base of the rock.  Her hat, on the other hand, went skidding across the mossy forest floor. Through the thick haze of pain and oxygen deprivation, she heard Otus growling menacingly, the sound bringing a weak smile to her split lips. 

            _'Get 'em boy!'_ she mentally cheered as she listened to her faithful friend snarling and barking at her assailant.  But her hope was short-lived. As the spinning world began to right itself and her vision cleared, Maggie caught a glimpse of a lithe dark figure in the backlighting of a sheet of lightning. As the massive dog lunged for the figure, the scene before her became a blur of movement in the shadows, ending with a pained yelp that sliced through her heart. Thunder muffled the sob that escaped her brutalized throat as the figure turned again and Maggie found herself staring through the watery veil into the glittering eyes of her predator.

            Fighting down her rising panic, Maggie felt blindly for her knife in the waterlogged leaf litter, never breaking her gaze from those dark, emotionless eyes.  Suddenly an arc of lightning overhead bathed the forest in a blanket of light, seeping into every corner and Maggie gasped.

            "Sarah!"

            "Time's up, Maggie." The woman hissed.

            "Why?" The seconds stretched into an eternity in Maggie's head. _'Keep her talking. Max'll be here any second. I've got to find a way to warn her.' _

            "I have my orders.  Why is irrelevant," was the soulless answer.  "Your termination is the final objective and I will complete my mission."

            "So that's all I am. Just another job for you?" Maggie fought to keep her voice level as her fingers closed over the wooden hilt of her knife.

            "I do as I'm ordered." Sarah snapped and, for a brief instant, Maggie thought she noticed a very slight waver in her attacker's voice, as though she was not as in control as she seemed. Desperate for any potential weakness, Maggie kept prodding.

            "And what's in it for you, Sarah?" Maggie seethed as she tightened her grip on her only weapon and slowly brought her legs beneath her, waiting for the next round. "What do you get? Money? Honour? Job satisfaction?"

            "Enough!" The soldier roared as she lunged at the scientist, but this time, Maggie was ready. Rearing back on her haunches like a cornered animal, she thrust the knife forward, sinking it into Sarah's flesh, just under her left clavicle as the other woman grasped Maggie by the shoulders. Growling, Sarah flung the small woman backwards at a frightening speed. All the air in her lungs was forced out painfully as Maggie's back cracked against the unyielding trunk of a nearby cedar and her body slumped to the ground like a rag doll. 

Knowing she was dead if she closed her eyes, Maggie shook her head violently, wincing as her mind screamed out against the assault, trying to clear the fog enough to stand. Through her tear-filled eyes, she watched her would-be killer warily and gasped as she saw the woman pull the knife from her shoulder as though it were embedded in butter. Not even a wince creased her features as the blade cleared her flesh.  The biologist's mind raced wildly as she tried desperately to figure out just what she was up against. Logan and Max were right. These were not your ordinary soldiers.

As the knife hit the ground, lightning again blazed across the sky and for a brief moment, Maggie got a good look at the face of her attacker. What she saw chilled her to the bone.  A dark emptiness gazed unerringly back at her. There was no trace of the Sarah she thought she knew. There was no spark of remorse or even satisfaction to colour her features. It was like staring at a killing machine. 

As her heart thudded wildly in her chest, Maggie drew as deep a breath as her battered lungs would allow. Bracing herself against the spongy bark of the cedar behind her, she watched as the soldier crossed the distance between them with a purposeful stride, the rumble of thunder sounding like a death knell overhead. Every bone in Maggie's body screamed in pain and her mind swam with fog. She knew she was no match for what was coming toward her, but damned if she wasn't going to cling to every last minute of life that she could. If she could just hold on a little longer, she might find a way to warn Max and at least save her life.

Her attacker lunged like a jungle cat across the last few feet and Maggie struggled fiercely as she felt a hand clamp around her throat. Eyes wide from lack of oxygen, she gasped like a fish out of water as the soldier slipped her fingers on either side of her spinal cord. Up close, Maggie could make out a cold fire in her killer's eyes, the faint glow of blood lust a predator has just before the final blow.

In one last moment of terror, Maggie closed her eyes against the penetrating stare as she waited for the snap that would send her into oblivion… but it never came. She opened her eyes to a blur of motion as a large body slammed into the predator's flank, knocking her off her feet. Maggie was flung forward as the chokehold was released. She rested on her knees in the cool moss, trying to force air into her starving lungs. She watched through clouded eyes as her would-be assassin came up kicking, landing a well-placed foot into her saviour's stomach, who took the blow as if it was little more than a nudge.

The horses still tethered nearby pulled at their reins as the two figures continued their battle, like a well-choreographed dance. Brushing a stray lock of wet hair from her eyes, Maggie squinted through the rain trying to identify her rescuer.

As a yet another sheet of lightning flooded the forest floor, Maggie gasped as she caught sight of short black curls bouncing around the head of the woman warding off her attacker. 

"Max!" Maggie cursed inwardly as the croak that was her voice was barely audible over the roar of the storm. 

It was still enough to get Max's attention. As she turned to check on Logan's cousin, she left herself open. In that split second, a fist collided with her jaw and she staggered backwards at a sickening angle.

Maggie watched, horrified as Sarah grabbed a handful of Max's hair, yanking the other girl forward so that they were face-to-face in the darkness. 

Wrenching herself from her opponent's grasp, Max brought a shaky hand to her mouth. The chaos surrounding them seemed to evaporate as she spoke.

"Brin?" The name was weighed heavily with pain and horror.

Staring back, her eyes steely, her attacker smiled.

"Hello, little sister."


	7. Chapter 7

New World, Old Ghosts

By Aquila 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: hhinam@hotmail.com

**Archiving: **Please ask first.

**Summary**: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble. I had someone point out to me that my stories seem like chapters in a larger work and in a way I guess they are. They basically go in chronological order. You can read them in the order of Unfinished, Pas de Deux, Walking on Water and this one, filling in the blanks with the show. However all of the stories stand just fine on their own.

**Author's Notes**: O.K., there's really not much I can say except sorry I took so long. I've come to the conclusion that I will never post a long story in pieces again unless I have over two thirds written. It's been a long and extremely busy year. There are way too many things on my plate, but I said I'd finish this and so finish it I will. Think of this as my Christmas present to you all, assuming that anyone is still even reading this. If you are, I'm amazed and thankful. We have one more chapter to go after this one and I'm currently six pages into it. Still, don't expect it anytime soon. My life is only going to get busier in the next few months. The scientist in me wanted to share some interesting statistics with you. At 74 pages and 37,731 words, this story is about twice the length of my Master's Thesis and that took me three years to write. Anyway, hope you enjoy this penultimate chapter and I promise the last one will show up eventually. By the way, if any of you are West Wing fans, you can check out the other story that has been competing for my attention. Have a lovely holiday and thank you very much for your attention!

Special thanks to my dear friends Joy and Chris for keep a smile on my face. Thank you Joy for always finding the funny and for making it look like I can spell. Thank you Chris for making me laugh with your comments and for the continuity police in you that makes sure the storm is still coming from the right direction. Thanks also to Mom for asking every so often "so are you done that story yet?" All I can say is, "I'm getting there." 

**Chapter 7**

            A sick, empty feeling settled in her chest as Max searched the eyes of the soldier in front of her for any sign of the sister she once knew. She could find no flicker of the familiar. The Brin she knew was dead.

_'I don't want to die. Please...Don't let me die.'_

Max choked back the sob that threatened to escape as flashes of the night they lost Brin assaulted her senses.

_'Brin doesn't have much time.'_ Lydecker's words were burned into her memory.  The forest around her faded and she could see her sister, lying in the back of that van, broken, pleading with her eyes for them to help her. 

_'Help me get her to Manticore before it's too late.'_ They'd always said they'd rather die than go back there, but Brin didn't want to die.

_'Please…Don't let me die.'_

But she did, left on that bench waiting for the vultures from Manticore. They had left her behind.

The X-5 sneered at Max, relaxing her stance ever so slightly.

"What's the matter Max? Don't I even get a 'Welcome back' from my little sister?"

The words burned through Max's ears, clawing at her heart as the fire in the pit of her stomach flared into a burning anger. Anger at that… thing that had the audacity to call her 'little sister', anger at Manticore for their destruction. Anger at Brin for wanting them to take her back. Anger at herself for letting her go. 

Through the haze of the rain, Maggie watched in horror as the fury that had obviously been building in her companion erupted with a vengeance and Max lunged at the other woman, aiming to strike her across the face. 

With frightening reflexes, Brin caught Max's fist pulling her forward, twisting her arm at a sickening angle and enveloping her in a headlock.

"You're technique needs some work Max," Brin hissed into Max's hair. "Maybe you should come back to Manticore with me for a brush-up."

Max's eyes narrowed with determination. Inhaling sharply, she heaved her body forward, catapulting her attacker over her head and slamming her back into a nearby tree. Max quickly resumed her defensive stance as Brin recovered, unfazed and immediately launched into another attack. The two women became a blur of action as fists were blocked and legs connected with legs, parrying each blow with equal force.

Heart racing, Maggie squinted through the darkness, desperately trying to keep track of Max's movements, wishing there was something she could do. Somewhere in the far corner of her thoughts, her mind tried to process all that she had heard. Max, from Manticore? Did Logan know? She remembered both her cousin and his friend's reluctance to discuss Max's past. Of course Logan knew. He obviously didn't see that as a problem and, right now, that was good enough for her. Besides, at the moment, she had other things to worry about. Focussing back on the battle, she allowed herself a tiny mental cheer as Max gained ground, forcing Brin back down the path, over the rise towards the edge of the canyon.

            Gritting her teeth against her body's painful protest to any movement, Maggie hauled herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the massive trunk behind her. Sucking in as deep a breath as her battered ribcage would allow, she staggered after the retreating women. She needed to get closer.

            For the first time that night, Maggie found herself blessing the rain as she padded silently through the darkened underbrush. If she slowed down enough to think about it, Maggie doubted either woman would notice anything beyond the immediate threat of each other. But, it was obvious both Max and this woman, Brin had abilities beyond her understanding and Maggie wasn't about to take any chances. The worst of the storm had passed and now the sickening crack of bone against bone and the occasional grunt could be heard over the patter of raindrops. 

            Maggie fought desperately to ignore the sounds of Max's struggle as she focussed on her goal. It was becoming apparent that her friend wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. Pushing her way through the sodden ferns and tangles of blackberry, Maggie moved surely through the forest she knew so well. Giving the battle a wide berth, she came up at her destination, strategically positioned between Brin and the edge of the canyon wall. Now to get Max's attention…

            Too equally matched, the women were tiring, their movements slowing to a more perceptible speed.

            _'C'mon Max,'_ Maggie silently egged as she watched her friend plant a well-placed kick into Brin's hip, sending her opponent staggering backwards towards the canyon. The image of Simon lifeless body sprawled on his kitchen floor flashed across her eyes. The dark fire of vengeance licked at Maggie's heart as she focussed on the present, watching the solder stumble closer and hardening her heart against what she was preparing to do.

            All it would take was a nudge in the right direction and it would be all over. It was simple, but doubt edged at her resolve. Could she really do it? She tried to convince herself that it would be self-defence. Max's life was in danger, not to mention her own. But a heavy knot formed in her stomach the more she thought about actually going through with it. Hell, she had a hard enough time dealing with a mortally wounded animal.  Could she really push Brin over the edge? And if she could, would Max ever forgive her?

            A strangled cry jolted Maggie away from her inner battle. Glancing up, she watched in terror as Max's legs gave way and her body lurched forward. Brin didn't miss a beat. Bringing her fists down between her opponent's shoulder blades, she sent Max to the forest floor. Coughing and sputtering, Max rolled over in an attempt to ward off her attacker, only to be met with a boot pressed against her windpipe.

            "I really didn't want to do this Little Sister, but you've left me no choice."

            Flailing helplessly, Max pleaded with her eyes as she felt the boot's pressure increase and blackness threaten to overtake her.  Terrifying numbness crept up her extremities and her heart hammered in chest, the rush of blood in her ears blocking out everything but the boot cutting into her trachea.

            "Please… Brin…" Max mouthed as her vocal chords no longer worked. Willing her eyelids not to close, she stared fixedly at her killer.

            "Brin…" 

            The eyes blurred for an instant and… she hesitated.

            That was all Maggie needed. 

            "Hey! Over here!" she shrieked, stumbling out of her hiding place, just as the bushes behind Brin exploded.

            A massive animal… a horse came careening toward the trio, shying inches from trampling the women at his feet. Rearing up with a terrified roar, the animal flung his rider into the undergrowth like a rag doll. Recovering from the shock, Maggie gasped as Logan's head appeared above the tangle of ferns. 

            Brin, momentarily distracted by the chaos, backed away from the flailing limbs, leaving Max to roll out from underfoot. The animal didn't relent. Snuffing and snorting, he reared back a second time, forcing the source of his panic further back, towards the edge of the canyon. Sandwiched between massive trunks, Brin inched back, shielding her eyes and scanning as calmly as possible for an escape route. The horse wasn't giving her any options and she felt ground drop off behind her. 

            As the massive creature came down heavily on his front hooves, the shale bedrock crunched beneath his weight. Maggie, Max and Logan watched in frozen horror as horse and woman struggled for footing along the crumbling canyon wall. In a last ditch effort to escape; Brin launched herself in an attempt to catapult herself to safety.  At the same moment, the horse thrust his head forward, catching her in the chest and sending her backwards over the edge. 

            "Brin!" Max's voice was barely a whisper as she tried desperately to get to her feet. 

            Unable to force her muscles to move, Max watched as her sister's hand reached out and snagged the horse's reins, pulling them both to the brink of the shear drop below. Brin struggled for footing as she dangled from the thin piece of leather, but couldn't get the leverage she needed against the slick rock. The horse, for his part, was fighting to remain upright, his neck muscles straining against the dead weight pulling on his bridle.

            Max pulled herself heavily to her feet only to crumple to the ground with her first step. The movement snapped Maggie out of her stupor and she rushed to the ledge. The horse stumbled as yet more rock slid out from under his hooves. As Maggie reached his side, the panicked animal flung his head back with all the strength he could muster.

            Everything stilled as a loud snap echoed over the canyon and Maggie and the horse were flung backwards with the release of the weight.

            "No!" Max croaked as she scrambled vainly towards the edge.

            Maggie slid a shaky hand through the horse's bridle and peered over the edge. Only darkness gazed back. The river roared below, echoed by the distant rumble of the abating storm. Releasing her pent-up pain and energy in a long sigh, Maggie leaned heavily the animal's shivering wet flank, releasing the bridle and running her fingers soothingly through the short hairs on his neck. It was over.

            "Maggie!"

            The fear in her cousin's voice dragged her back to reality. Turning away from the dark ravine, her heart leapt in her throat when she spotted him. Logan had dragged himself to Max's side and was now cradling her head in his lab as she convulsed violently.

            Forcing her reluctant muscles to move, Maggie covered the distance between them, sliding painfully to her knees beside Logan.

            "What's going on? What's wrong with her?" Max was shaking so violently, Maggie could hear the younger woman's teeth chattering. She worried briefly about her biting her tongue.

            "It's a seizure." He replied brokenly. "She sometimes gets them when… usually not this bad… I…"

            For the first time since he had come crashing through the night literally like a knight on his charger, Maggie took a really good look at her cousin. See couldn't see his eyes. They never left Max's face, but she could feel his distance. His thoughts were a million miles away with this young woman, unconscious in his arms. He tenderly threaded his fingers through Max's soaked curls in a desperate attempt to soothe her shaking. Maggie wasn't sure if the tremor in his shoulders were coming from him or the woman in his lap. 

            Maggie's own body was feeling the effects of her earlier trauma. She could feel the bruises on her neck as she swallowed painfully against the lump that had risen as she listened to Logan mumble incoherently, as though he was trying to guide Max back to consciousness. 

            Her friends needed her, now. Drawing on her last vestiges of strength, Maggie drew herself up from her semi-prone position on the wet moss and reached blindly for Logan's hand. She was surprised when her fingers made contact with smooth plastic. 

            "Logan, what's this?" she asked, prying a pill bottle from his clammy fingers.

            Her direct question seemed to focus his thoughts, dragging him back from his distraught vigil. Turning to face Maggie, his eyes regained their spark of determination. 

            "It's tryptophan. It usually helps calm the seizures," he answered, dividing his gaze between Max's face and Maggie.

            "A seratonin deficiency," Maggie ventured, dredging up what she could from her memories of countless physiology lectures.

            "Yeah. Usually it kicks in pretty quickly. She doesn't usually pass out." His voice carried a not of panic, but he forced himself to tamp it down. "Since the implant though…"

            Logan froze as realization dawned on him.

            Maggie just stared, waiting for him to continue.

            "Logan, what implant?"  
  


            "Long story, help me turn her over." The edge in his voice was back in full force.

            Max had stopped shaking, her muscles having tired themselves out from the constant involuntary stimulation. Maggie cast a panicked glance at the younger woman's chest and sent up a tiny prayer of thanks to see it still rising and falling rapidly with shallow breaths. Gently, they turned Max's body into Logan's chest.

            "Check the back of her neck." Logan instructed.

            Carefully, Maggie brushed the dark curls aside, noticing with concern the heat that radiated from her skin. A fever, just what Max didn't need. Sweeping the hair from Max's neck, Maggie started at what she found. She didn't even want to contemplate the meaning of the barcode stamped into her discoloured skin. Her attention was focussed higher up. Maggie fought a sudden wave of nausea as she stared at the ugly, festering wound, just above the array of dark lines.

            "Logan."

            Finding her voice, Maggie directed his attention to the injury. It was obvious that there was an object lodged in her skin, but it was barely visible among the infected tissue. Cloudy fluid seeped from around the object, but what concerned Maggie the most was the web of fine, greenish lines that radiated from the point of entry along the spinal column. 

            Maggie raised her eyes to meet Logan's and saw the fear she felt mirrored in his gaze.

            "I don't know what to make of this Logan," she voiced gently.

            Maggie watched as the clouds cleared from Logan's blue eyes. The determination returned.

            "Sebastian."

            "Who?"

            "Sebastian," Logan repeated, breaking his gaze. His right hand left Max's face and reached blindly for his coat pocket. "He's a friend. He knows about this… thing. He helped before…"

            "Logan…"

            Still muttering to himself, he pulled out his phone and flipped it open.

            "Logan…"

            "Damn, no signal."

            Despite the seriousness of the situation, Maggie couldn't fight the amused smile that tugged at her lips. "This is what I've been trying to tell you."

            Not seeing the humour, Logan raised panicked eyes to his cousin.

            "We need to… we have to…" taking a deep breath, Logan tried again. "I _can't_ lose her Maggie."

            The intense fear and longing in his voice tore at Maggie's heart. They had both missed so many opportunities. Her cousin was just starting to see what was in front of him and she'd be damned if she let this one slip through his fingers, or hers. There was no way they were losing Max tonight. Taking charge, Maggie heaved herself to her feet, trying to ignore the sharp pain that shot up her back with the movement. 

            Turning, she walked over to the horse she had left standing, now waiting calmly by the ravine. With her back still to Logan, she spoke.

            "O.K…. O.K., here's what we're going to do. You, Logan, are going to get back up on Artie and we're going to get Max back to the station, call your friend and get her the help she needs."

            Her tone brooked no argument, but Logan wasn't listening.

            "In case you haven't noticed Maggie, I can't exactly jump to my feet, sweep her up in my arms and ride off into the sunset."

            Grabbing the animal's reins, Maggie spun on her heel and fixed her cousin with an exasperated glare.

            "Oh, for God sakes Logan! Do you really think this is the time to be wallowing? Max doesn't have time for your pity party! Now get your head in the game and let's get her out of here!" Tirade finished, Maggie allowed herself a wry grin. "Besides, there is more than one way to mount a horse."

            Turning to face the animal in question, Maggie spoke to get his attention.

            "Artie, over here."

            She held her right hand out, arm extended until she was sure she had the horse's attention. She then curled her last three fingers to form the shape of a gun. 

            "Bang!"

            As she 'fired' the imaginary gun, the large horse pitched to one side and dropped to the ground. Turning, Maggie found Logan staring back, astonished.

            "Well, what did you expect? He _was_ a stage horse."

            Logan couldn't help the smile that answered his cousin's grin. 

            "Come. Get in the saddle Logan. I'll take care of Max," Maggie prompted, as she brought Artie up from his side to a seated position. 

Logan gently released his hold on Max and slid out from beneath her. He felt strangely bereft as the moist night air chilled the parts of his body that had been pressed up against her, well the parts of his body he could feel. Remembering his cousin's rant, Logan gathered what little energy he had left and rolled onto his stomach. His horse sat only about ten feet away, but to his aching arms and back it seemed like miles.

            Taking a deep breath, he rose up on his elbows, relishing the cool soothing feel of the wet moss under his scratched hands. Slowly, he dragged his unresponsive legs as he inched towards Artie. Maggie sat quietly by the horse's side, knowing to let Logan ask if he needed help. Lining himself up with the saddle, Logan reached out and gripped the support bars. Maggie stroked a calming hand down Artie's muzzle as Logan hauled himself into the saddle, arranging his feet in the stirrups on either side. 

            Without a word, Maggie stood and made her way over to Max. Kneeling, she slipped her arms under the unconscious woman's knees and shoulders. Carefully, she stood; staggering once under the extra weight and the strain of her injuries, and carried Max back to where Logan sat, waiting.

            As Maggie helped him settle his friend in his lap, Logan noticed the heat that emanated from Max's body. Cradling her to his chest, he whispered.

            "She's burning up. We've got to get her back…"

            "O.K. Logan," Maggie soothed as she guided Artie and his precious cargo to his feet. I'll round up the horses and Otus and…"

            Logan watched in horror as the colour drained from Maggie's face.

            "Otus…"

            "Maggie, what it is?" 

The panic in her voice lent yet more strength to the fear that clutched at his heart. Ignoring his question, Maggie spun on her heel and starting calling frantically for her dog. In mid-cry she stopped, staring fixedly toward the base of a large cedar. 

From his vantage point in the saddle, he saw it, a lump of wet greyish fur among the fronds. It wasn't moving.

Maggie seemed to snap out of whatever imaginary chains had been holding her in place and she broke into a run, sliding to her knees next to her long-time friend. Shoulders tense from holding her breath and hands shaking, she hesitantly reached out to trace her fingers along his muzzle. Terrified of what she might find, Maggie held the palm of her hand over the end of his nose. It was still wet. As warm air from his nostrils passed over her sweaty palm, she released the lump in her throat in a wracking sob. 

"Otus!"

He was alive. But he wasn't out of the woods yet. Leaving her right hand to gently caress his face, Maggie slid her left hand along his back, feeling for anything out of place. She fought a wave of nausea as she recalled the pained yelp and sharp thud that had followed when Brin had thrown her dog into the underbrush. She allowed herself a small modicum of hope has her examination found nothing but a strong, solid backbone. 

"It's gonna be O.K. sweetie," she cooed brokenly as she released his face and ran both hands along the length of his hind legs. Everything felt intact.

"C'mon boy wake up," Maggie whispered as she tickled the pads of his hind paws, the familiar gesture forcing the tears that had been welling up to spill down her cheeks.

"We have to go home Otus. Wake up." 

Logan tightened his hold on Max, pulling her closer and leaning his cheek against her hair as he watched the scene before him. His take-charge, smart-ass of a cousin was nowhere to be found. The small voice that was now trying to coax Otus awake brought back flashes of the lost little girl who had been dropped off by her parents because they couldn't be bothered with her. 

Suddenly, Logan felt his heart swell as a soft snuffling could be heard among the ferns.

"Oh my God! Otus?"

She was answered by a quiet, "woof" as two deep brown eyes lifted their gaze to meet hers. Crying openly now, Maggie flung her arms around the animal's neck and sobbed into his matted fur.

"Oh God Otus," she muttered into his hair. Lifting her head, she called out to Logan. "He's O.K.!" 

Losing the battle with his own tears, Logan answered, "I knew he'd be fine. He takes after you."  

Logan was rewarded for his bad attempt at humour with a watery chuckle. Carefully sliding her arms around his legs, Maggie lifted the massive dog like a calf and carried him over to the waiting horses. Gently placing him crossways in the saddle, she untied both Freya and Sigrid. Climbing up behind her dog, Maggie swung Freya around and guided both horses back to where Logan was waiting. 

"Let's get these guys home." Noticing the fear just behind Logan's eyes she added. "Max is going to be just fine. I plan on making sure of that."

Nodding solemnly, Logan urged Artie to follow as Maggie guided them back down the ridge to the station.

***

            "It's the implant. It's degrading." The robotic drone of Sebastian's voice synthesizer echoed in the small examining room.

            The ride back had seemed interminable to Logan. Maggie had pushed the horses as hard as possible, but it had still taken a little over two hours to get back. Max had yet to regain consciousness. As the forest seemed to close in on him, Logan had fought back his fear through words. Whispering in Max's ear, he had offered her an anchor in the darkness. He had fought to tie her to this world and to him through stories of his childhood escapades in the dark and other random thoughts as they entered his mind. Still, he had steered clear of what he really wanted to say. He didn't tell her that just the thought of losing her made his heart stop in his chest. If he gave those thoughts voice, they'd be real and he just wasn't ready for that. 

            Every so often, a tremor had run down her spine, causing Logan's heart to skip and his flow of words to stop. He'd pull her closer and try and call her back to him, but the answer was always silence. Silence and darkness.

            Now they were set up in a small examination room Maggie had had built on the end of the aviary as a place to tend to her injured animals. The room was Spartan and sterile and Logan found his head spinning from the bright fluorescent lights and shinning stainless steel. Max was lying on her side on a small worktable. Her legs were curled up in nearly a fetal position to keep them from dangling off the edge of the table that had been designed with much smaller patients in mind. 

            "We kind of figured that Sebastian. What do we do about it?" Logan answered tersely to the speakerphone next to him on the counter.

            His cousin wheeled on him, "Calm down Logan!" Maggie paced back and forth in the cramped space between the counter against the wall and the table. She could see that her cousin was nearing the end of his rope, but his clipped tone wasn't helping matters. Maggie was in not much better shape herself. Her heart still refused to calm, even two hours later. The beating Brin had given her left every muscle groaning in pain and the bumpy ride home hadn't helped. She fought to focus through the throbbing pain in her head and clear the cobwebs that threatened to consume her mind. 

            All she really wanted to do was sleep. Maggie spared a glance to the corner of the room, where Otus lay curled up. A more thorough examination when they got back had satisfied Maggie that her friend had just been knocked out by a blow the head and would suffer no lasting effects. She had felt a huge weight lift when the big dog licked her paw before drifting off to sleep. He was going to be fine. Now her other friend needed her. 

_'Focus Maggie!' _she mentally chastised herself.

Stopping dead in her pacing, Maggie, turned and gripped the side of the table.

"What exactly are we up against, Sebastian?" she asked with what she hoped was a calm tone.

"The outer sheath of the implant is degrading, likely due to Max's unique body chemistry. It's exposing the inner copper wiring. It's no longer inert and the exposed wire is creating synapses in her spinal chord that normally aren't there. That's what triggered the seizures."

Maggie pushed herself off from the table and turned to the sink against the wall. Shrugging out of her sodden coat and slipping on a clean lab coat from a nearby hook, she set about preparing equipment, guessing already what was going to have to be done to save Max.

"What's causing the green lines?" Logan asked from beside her on the counter. 

"It's a symptom of copper poisoning. It's a result of the filaments dissolving. Some of it has probably entered her blood stream, further aggravating her seizures. 

"We've got to get that thing out of her now." Logan's voice belied his fear and Maggie felt her heart constrict with sympathy.

"Already on it Logan." Maggie answered over the din of running water as she scrubbed her hands and arms up to the elbows. They weren't in an entirely sterile environment, but it would have to do. Besides, Max had bigger problems than the odd stray bacteria.

"You're going to have to remove the main implant and as many of the external filaments as you can." Sebastian's disembodied voice interjected. "She'll still have the copper in her system, but the source will be gone."

Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, Maggie redoubled her efforts to still her racing heart. She had never been fond of the surgical part of dealing with injured animals. Simon had always taken care of the more serious patients. The thought of Simon stopped her heart dead and filled her with fresh pain. She fought back the hot tears that welled in her eyes as she ran her hand over the surgical instruments that had once belonged to her dearest friend. 

Taking a deep breath and slipping behind as professional a mask as she could muster, Maggie turned to her patient and announced "O.K. Sebastian, I'm ready."

Logan slid along the counter, positioning himself behind his cousin. Donning his own pair of latex gloves, he leaned forward to get a better view and be ready to help when needed.

Maggie tried to ignore the anxious man literally breathing down her neck as she swabbed the inflamed area on Max's neck with Betadine.

"What's that?" Logan queried from his perch.

Maggie's shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. She understood Logan's need to feel useful and she could empathise with his anxiety, but she really didn't need a round of twenty questions. Still, wanting to allay his fears as much as possible, she answered.

"It's an antiseptic. It kills any bacteria that may be on her skin. Don't worry Logan," she soothed. "I do have some idea as to what I'm doing."

Once satisfied with her preparations, Maggie reached for a small hypodermic needle she had prepared earlier. As if on cue, Logan piped up.

"What's that?"

Sighing quietly, Maggie gritted her teeth.

"It's Xylocaine. I figured I'd give Max a bit of a local. She's suffered enough pain for on night." 

"Do you know how much to give her?"

Maggie's patience snapped. "No Logan," she replied tersely. "I haven't exactly had many opportunities to do surgery on genetically engineered soldiers, like your girlfriend here."  
  


She regretted her words before even the last syllable left her lips. Shoulders tense, Maggie glanced over her shoulder at her cousin, prepared to apologize, but Logan stared right past her.

"She's not my girlfriend." He answered reflexively, though his voice sounded small and lost.

Despite the desperation of the situation, Maggie just couldn't keep the corners of her lips from curling into a sad, wry smile. Turning back to Max, she picked up her scalpel and muttered to herself.

"When this is all over Logan, we're going to have to set your priorities straight."

Refocusing on the task at hand, Maggie carefully made her first incision.

***


	8. Chapter 8

New World, Old Ghosts

By Aquila 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: 

**Archiving: **I'd be flattered, but please ask first.

**Summary**: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble. I had someone point out to me that my stories seem like chapters in a larger work and in a way I guess they are. They basically go in chronological order. You can read them in the order of Unfinished, Pas de Deux, Walking on Water and this one, filling in the blanks with the show. However all of the stories stand just fine on their own.

**Author's Notes**: Well, once again, my muse got away from me. I had intended for this to be the last chapter, but when I hit page 13 with no immediate end in sight, I decided that I needed to break it up and take pity on you incredibly dedicated readers and post this. Also, I was promised Christmas carols if I managed to get this up in time for the holidays. I do sincerely apologize for taking so long between chapters, but with all my other obligations, my more fun writing often gets relegated to the back burner. A few stats to consider though: This story was started over 4 years ago. It's currently over 80 pages long. At over 40,000 words, it's twice as long as my Master's thesis. I know I've said this before, but chapter 9 will be the end and I hope to get it out in less than a year's time. This hasn't been thoroughly beta'd, so any mistakes are mine. Thanks again to everyone who has stuck this story out. Your tenacity is humbling. You might want to skim the previous chapters if you haven't read this in a long time. I make a few references.

A special thanks as always to Joy and Chris for being such good friends and always helping with my writing. Thanks to Mom for teaching me grammar. Thanks to Keri for gently pushing this story along. I promise I WILL finish it.

**Chapter 8**

The first rays of dawn slid cleanly through the branches, only to be scattered by the mist rising off the lake. A gentle breeze coaxed the gleaming droplets of last night's rain from the still sodden leaves. The night chorus of frogs gave way to the melodic song of a robin. As the sun began its slow ascent to the tops of the trees, the raucous call of a Red-necked Grebe cut through the stillness, waking all who dared to sleep through the sunrise, including Maggie.

Groaning in protest, she burrowed further into the pillows in an attempt to muffle the sound she often likened to a 'gull being strangled.' Only a few hours ago, Maggie had been convinced the night would never end. Her gloved hands had been soaked in blood, as she had shakily clipped away at the net of wires embedded in Max's neck.

Fighting through the haze of pain and fatigue that had threatened to overtake her mind, Maggie had carefully freed the disintegrating bits of copper from the surrounding inflamed tissue. By the time the worst of the implant has been removed and the wound closed up, she had been ready to collapse on the table next to her friend.

Sparing a sleepy glance at the clock, Maggie groaned as her fuzzy eyes made out the numbers six twenty-three. There was no way in hell she was getting up yet. Max was resting relatively comfortably in Logan's bed downstairs. Maggie was pretty sure her cousin was still maintaining his vigil by her bedside, waiting for Max to come out of her healing sleep. She could only hope Logan was getting some sleep himself. They hadn't had time to talk about it, but from the look of the bruises that stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin under the harsh fluorescent lighting, he'd taken quite a beating as well.

Gingerly, Maggie stretched out her legs, wincing as her bruised ribs protested loudly. Extending her toes to the fullest, she smiled as her skin came in contact with warm, soft fur. Otus snored softly among the pile of quilts at the foot of her bed. They'd survived the night. It was going to be O.K.

As she slid back into consciousness the second time, Maggie immediately became aware of two things; the blinding early afternoon sunlight streaming through her window and the sound of music coming from downstairs. Rubbing the last remainders of sleep from her eyes, she very slowly and very carefully pulled herself into a sitting position in an effort to escape the blinding rays her curtains didn't quite manage to deflect.

The bed shook subtly as Otus roused from his slumber at the end of the bed. Turning to face his owner, he greeted Maggie with a soft 'woof' before dropping his head back onto the quilt and letting his eyelids slip closed again. A slow smile graced her lips as Maggie leaned forward to run a comforting hand through his soft fur. Well, it was time for at least one of them to get up.

Getting out of bed proved to be much harder than she had expected. She couldn't stop a grimace from marring her features as every muscle she knew of and a few newly discovered ones screamed in protest as she inched her legs over the side of the bed and shakily stood up. Her stomach threatened to revolt from the pain coursing through her body. Leaning heavily on her nightstand, Maggie willed her digestive tract into submission and smiled grimly.

She'd actually fared pretty well, considering the beating she'd taken last night. Nothing was broken and the cuts and bruises would heal with time. She would just have to remind herself to take it easy until then. Heeding her own advice, Maggie reached for her walking stick, which was propped up by her bed. It had helped her get up the stairs last night; it would get her back down now.

Stopping in the bathroom to freshen up and top up the level of painkillers in her system, Maggie started at the face gazing back at her from the mirror. The bruises had had time to set in overnight. Ligature marks stood out starkly against the pallid skin of her neck. Absently running a finger along the angry purple lines, she fought back the memory of how they got there. Thankfully, sounds from downstairs tugged her out of her dark musings.

Straining her well-trained ears, Maggie smiled in earnest as she identified the source of the music that had woken her earlier.

Logan was singing.

Actually, at the moment, he was humming, but as Maggie carefully began her descent down the stairs, his warm voice started adding words.

"She can kill with a smile

She can wound with her eyes

She can ruin your faith with her casual lies."

Maggie's smile broadened as she recognized the old Billy Joel tune. It had long been one of her favourites.

"And she'll only reveal what she wants you to see.

She hides like a child, but she's always a woman to me."

Though she'd heard them a hundred times and if asked, could recite them by heart, Maggie found herself suddenly struck by the meaning of the lyrics.

"She can leave you to look

She can take you or leave you

She can ask for the truth but she'd never believe you

And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free

Yeah, she steals like a thief, but she's always a woman to me."

As she reached the landing and shuffled quietly to the bedroom at the back of the house, Maggie wondered if Logan realized what he was singing or if he was just seeking release from his worry in any piece of music he could think of. Listening now, she couldn't help but draw the parallels to her cousin's unique relationship with the woman recuperating in the next room. They obviously had been through a lot together, both in the last few days and most likely in the last few months. Maggie paused with her hand on the doorknob as she remembered the argument she had overheard yesterday. From the passion behind their words, it was obvious that there could be so much more to their relationship, if only they would pull their heads up out of the sand.

"Oh… She takes care of herself

She can wait if she wants

She's ahead of her time

Oh… And she never gives out

And she never gives in

She just changes her mind"

Smiling slyly at just how well the lyrics seemed to describe Max, Maggie, carefully turned the knob, hoping to keep the bolt from clicking and potentially disturbing the couple on the other side. Quietly easing the door open, her breath caught as she took in the scene before her. Logan sat, stretched out on the bed, his back against the headboard. Eyes closed, he continued the song, his rich voice filling the room as he cradled an apparently still unconscious Max against his chest. The sunlight filtering through the gingham curtains bathed the couple in a warm, soft light, erasing the hard edges of last night's ordeal. Maggie watched through unshed tears as Logan finished the last refrain.

"She is frequently kind

And she's suddenly cruel.

She can do as she pleases; she's nobody's fool

And she can't be convicted

She earned her degree

And the most she will do is throw shadows at you

But she's always a woman to me."

As Logan hummed the last notes into the stillness, Maggie couldn't help the soft grin that spread across her face in reflection of the warmth spreading through her body at the picture they made. Watery smile still in place, she made herself comfortable against the doorframe, unwilling to break the silent spell that now pervaded the room.

"C'mon in Mags."

Maggie snapped out of her reverie to find her cousin grinning tiredly over the top of Max's curls. Surreptitiously wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she grinned back. Leaning heavily on her walking stick, she pushed herself off the doorframe and moved slowly towards the bed. Logan's eyes clouded with concern as he watched her progress.

"I'll be fine Logan." She started before he could open his mouth to comment. "My body's just coming to terms with the trauma it endured last night. It's nothing that won't heal."

"You should be resting."

"I was until about a half hour ago. I'd be bored stiff lying in bed all day. Besides," she continued, making her way to the far side of the bed. "I needed to check on our patient. How's she doing?"

Logan subconsciously shifted his weight on the bed in an attempt to disentangle himself from the woman sleeping on top of him. He suddenly stopped as he realized he was being ridiculous. He was done pretending. He pulled Max closer as he decided it was exactly what it looked like.

Maggie's lips quirked as she noticed the change in her cousin's demeanour.

"I think that knock on the head last night did you some good."

She laughed outright at his stunned expression. Deciding he had suffered enough abuse over the last few days, she cut him some slack by changing the subject.

"Any signs of waking up?"

Logan shook his head, obviously relieved, but knowing his cousin would only corner him later.

"Nothing yet."

Suddenly, the head leaning on him started to stir.

"O.K., now we have signs."

Maggie came around to the front of the bed, and gingerly sat down near Logan's legs. Gently she clasped the hand that Logan wasn't already holding and began to coax Max into consciousness.

"C'mon Max, you can do it."

"Max, can you hear me?" The depth of yearning in Logan's voice lodged a lump firmly in Maggie's throat.

A slow smile bloomed across Max's face and Maggie couldn't help the relieved chuckle that burst forth.

"I'm getting the feeling that someone's been awake for a while now."

Suddenly, Max's eyelids fluttered and deep brown eyes met grey.

"Hey sleepy-head."

Max's smile spread into a tired grin.

"You were right."

"What's that?"

Maggie spared a glance up at her cousin who was watching Max intently, his eyes glazed with concern. Mindful of her own injuries, Maggie leaned in closer to be sure to catch Max's next words through the sleep-induced gravel.

"You're right. I hadn't lived."

As realization dawned, Maggie answered Max's knowing smile with one of her own. Catching Logan's confused stare, she chuckled.

"Girl talk, Logan. Just girl talk."

Knowing he would never get more of explanation out of either of them, Logan let the comment pass. Instinctively, he pulled Max into a tighter embrace, slipping his hand up to her forehead in search of any remnants of a fever. As his hand made contact with her skin, a wave of awareness washed over him. Until only a few hours ago, they had never been this close, always dancing around each other, advancing and retreating, but rarely ever touching and Logan marvelled at how naturally the intimate gesture came to him.

Clearing his throat in an effort to calm the sudden rise in his heart rate, Logan broke the silence.

"Your fever seems to have broken. How are you feeling?"

Max chuckled weakly, running a hand along the back of her neck. "Like someone played pin the tail on the donkey with my spinal chord."

"That was me," Maggie answered sheepishly. "Sorry about that. You're implant had to come out or…"

Immediately serious, Max silenced Maggie's ramblings with a hand to her shoulder.

"Thank you." She said earnestly.

"Anytime," Maggie answered solemnly.

Both women lapsed into silence, but Logan would swear that volumes were still being said. Suddenly, Maggie broke the mood by gingerly pushing herself off the bed and hobbling towards the door.

"I don't know about you guys, but over-the-top heroics tend to leave me with one hell of an appetite. How about I go make us some breakfast… or I guess I should say lunch."

From her overly bright tone, Logan knew that Maggie was trying to escape. From what, he wasn't sure; but he'd give her some time before he set out to find out.

"I'll come help you out in a few minutes, Maggie." Logan called after her retreating form.

A distracted "'kay," was all that answered him from the hallway, then the room descended into silence.

Soon all that could be heard was the quiet tick of the clock on the nightstand and the gentle rhythm of Logan's breathing beneath her. Taking stock of her surroundings, Max suppressed a grimace. Every muscle in her body ached and the back of her neck was on fire. The painkillers must have worn off. She'd heal quickly, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt in the meantime. Drawing on her childhood training, Max sought to mentally block out the pain, focussing her thoughts elsewhere.

That's when she felt it. His touch was so gentle, that she wondered at first if she wasn't imagining it. But as she forced the pain to the back of her mind, Max suddenly found herself surrounded by all things Logan. She immediately became conscious of her head pillowed on his chest and the long line of his body pressed tightly to her own. Breathing in deeply, she caught his familiar scent under the odour of wet horse that pervaded the room. They were both a mess, covered in dirt, sweat and blood, but Max had never felt more comfortable in her life. For the first time she could remember, she wanted to let herself go completely, surrendering her defences to the gentle circles he drew on her back.

The very idea at once thrilled and terrified her. The only people she's ever let her guard down with completely had been her siblings and just look where that had left her. Zack had abandoned her and Brin… Max shuddered at the memory of the look in her former sister's eyes. She had lost her too, to the hell from whence they'd come and Brin had gone willingly, too weak to keep her promise. Everyone she'd ever let close had left her. It was only a matter of time before Logan would too. Hell, he'd even already tried.

For a moment, the remembered panic of when she'd discovered his suicidal tendencies washed over her as she realized just how much it would tear her apart to lose Logan… to lose this… thing they had. She remembered the all-encompassing pain that had gripped Maggie the other night as she came to grips with the loss of Simon and Max realized that she would've reacted to losing Logan the same way. That's when it hit her. She'd already let go. Max couldn't pinpoint when it had happened, but it had. She had been intent on breaching his walls over the next few days, but he had already breached hers and it felt… good… Risking a glance upwards, Max found herself caught in an ocean of blue. His watery gaze held her a tender captive and for the first time in her life, Max had finished running.

Smiling weakly, she snuggled closer to his chest, pleased with the sudden spike in the heartbeat under her ear, and closed her eyes. They weren't totally out of the woods yet, but the rest of the journey could wait.

Chittering brightly, a trio of Mountain Chickadees flitted back and forth between the hanging bird feeder and a nearby spruce tree, unawares of the woman who watched them from the kitchen window. Sighing heavily, Maggie returned her attention to the soap-filled bowl that was bobbing in the sink. The aroma of baking quiche slowly filled the corners of the room, escaping through the archway and drifting lazily through the rest of the house. Though it was coming on one in the afternoon, she had decided that she wanted the comfort of a breakfast-like meal to help sooth her churning thoughts and the slight rolling of her stomach that just wouldn't go away. She could've just thrown together some eggs and toast, but Maggie decided that she needed to be distracted and nothing distracted her better than cooking.

After swiping her dishcloth over the bowl for what felt like the hundredth time, Maggie set it in the drainer with a huff and backed up into a nearby chair. Settling against the back with a groan, Maggie fought viciously against the tears that welling behind her lashes. Everything hurt, her muscles, her head… her heart. For a moment, she wondered if this was how Logan had felt after the shooting…

The squeak of rubber on hardwood stopped her musing and Maggie smiled weakly.

_'Speak of the devil…'_

"Something smells awfully good in here."

Schooling her features and surreptitiously dashing a few stray tears from her lashes, Maggie rose from her chair and turned to face her cousin who was now peering through the oven door.

"Hope you're hungry, Logan. I made two."

Glancing up at Maggie for the first time since he'd entered the room, Logan was shocked at what he saw. The early-afternoon sunlight through the window over the sink cast her face in a warm glow, making the shadows under her eyes clearer and darkening the bruises that adorned her neck. She was smiling but it didn't reach her eyes, which were pained and haunted. She was becoming uncomfortable under his scrutiny and Logan made a split-second decision. The time for misdirection was over.

"You don't have to hold it all together anymore Maggie."

With his soft entreaty, the dam broke. It wasn't a sudden deluge, but a slow crumbling. A few tears slipped free and trickled down her cheeks as her lower lip began to tremble. When Logan opened his arms with a whispered "C'mere," it began in earnest. Maggie tumbled clumsily into his embrace as the sobs began to wrack her body. He couldn't stem his own tears as he gently threaded his fingers through her hair.

"It's alright, just let it all out," he choked as she tightened her grip on his shoulders, burrowing into his chest as the sobs slowly subsided into hiccups.

"I was so scared…" she managed to gasp as she tried to regulate her breathing while unceremoniously wiping her face on Logan's shirt.

"I know, me too."

"…I was so scared for you, for Max… me. I've never been so terrified."

Logan smiled through his tears. "You hid it well. From what I could tell, you were cool as a cucumber."

A small laugh vibrated against his chest as Maggie spoke into his shirt.

"I guess adrenaline is the great equalizer."

Logan sighed into her hair. "It's amazing what one can endure with a little push."

"You got that right."

The two lapsed into silence as Maggie re-arranged herself into a more comfortable position for both of them on Logan's lap. Logan gently combed his fingers through her long tresses, careful to avoid tangles as he listened to Maggie's breathing even out. He'd worried she'd lapsed into sleep and was trying to figured out how he was going to salvage their meal without waking her up when quiet words breathed across his neck.

"So what now?"

Logan paused for a moment, organizing his thoughts.

"Well, later today I'll send a remote 'Eyes Only' broadcast documenting Bergstrom's dealings with Manticore and fingering him for the killings. That should get the authorities moving. Then I'll hand over the evidence to my friends in law enforcement. That should be the beginning of the end for Bergstrom Industries."

Maggie looked doubtful, so Logan continued.

"He's going to pay for what he did, Mags. I won't let him get away with it."

Maggie sighed.

"Well, we may have won the battle, but the war's not over."

Logan smiled. "Something tells me you're not done fighting. I know I'm not."

Maggie looked up into his eyes at this, searching for the truth in his words. He wasn't going to try and abandon them again. Satisfied that he meant what he'd said, she let him continue.

"We've at least bought ourselves a reprieve for a while. So try and enjoy the victory Maggie. You deserve it and you know that if you need anything… anything at all, I'm here and I think it's safe to say that so is Max."

Maggie smiled tiredly for the first time in what felt like days as some of the weight slipped from her shoulders. She felt like she could breathe for the first time in weeks. The immediate threat was gone. They were going to be O.K. Then, through the relief, it hit her; _they_ weren't all here. Simon was gone.

Logan watched as the fire in his cousin's eyes were once again doused with pain and tears began to resurface. Her voice caught in her throat, she whispered harshly, "I miss him so much, Logan."

Logan pulled Maggie back into his chest, rocking her gently as she shook again him with renewed pain. He felt his shirt dampening with fresh tears as fragments of sentences tumbled from her lips.

"I never told… why did I…waited too…I never told him Logan."

His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he watched Maggie finally come to terms with Simon's murder and her regret at never having the chance to take things with him beyond the level of friendship. Then again, she'd though they had all the time in the world. As Maggie calmed against him, Logan swore to himself that he wouldn't make the same mistake with Max. Gently, he pulled back, cupping Maggie's chin and slowly forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Maggie…shh…Maggie. He knew." Logan said earnestly. "I only met Simon a few times, but anyone would've had to have been blind and stupid not to notice what you two had. He knew."

Maggie wiped at her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, then clasped Logan's hand in hers.

"Please Logan, don't make the same mistake."

Logan smiled, making it obvious that he understood her meaning and answered with conviction. "I won't"

Maggie brightened.

"O.K."

Sliding from Logan's lap Maggie stood and made to dust herself off. In an effort to continue to lighten the mood, Logan abruptly changed the subject.

"I just have one question Maggie."

"What's that?" his cousin answered, checking on the status of their meal.

"How did a big male horse end up being named after the Greek goddess of the hunt?"

Maggie smiled in earnest and rolled her eyes.

"That, Logan, is the fault of his original owner. He thought it made him sound more sophisticated. I just didn't have the heart to tell him he'd named the poor guy after a woman. That's why I shortened the name to Artie."

Logan laughed outright. "I knew there had to be a story in there somewhere."

Maggie chuckled, pulling the quiches from the oven. "Alright, now I'm really hungry. So let's get some food into you, then you, my dear cousin, need some sleep."

Logan smiled as he settled himself at the table. "You won't be getting any arguments from me."


	9. Chapter 9

New World, Old Ghosts

By Heather Hinam 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Email**: Please ask first.

**Summary**: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.

**Spoilers: **Post-Female Trouble. I had someone point out to me that my stories seem like chapters in a larger work and in a way I guess they are. They basically go in chronological order. You can read them in the order of Unfinished, Pas de Deux, Walking on Water and this one, filling in the blanks with the show. However all of the stories stand just fine on their own.

**Author's Notes**: Well folks, this is it. I promised I'd finish this and I tend to keep my promises, just not necessarily the timeline. I'm sorry it took so long. I actually had it done by New Year's; but just never got around to posting it because I kept wanting to tweak things. I still can't figure out where January went, let alone the nearly five years it took me to write this story! Thanks to everyone who has read this and shared their thoughts with me. Your tremendous support of this story has been humbling. I hope this final chapter can live up to your expectations. It's been an incredible journey through nearly two post-graduate degrees, two cities, five years, 101 pages and about 45,000 words! I treasure the friendships I've made as a result of my fanfic writing. This is very likely the last DA fic I'll ever write. My muse has turned to other things. I still post from time to time in other fandoms on this site. I hope you'll check them out sometime.

Thanks and happy trails,

Heather.

**Chapter 9**

A flock of Pine Siskins chirped brightly as they danced across the sky, disappearing one by one into the dark foliage of the towering spruce at the end of the porch. Maggie smiled at the sound and sunk deeper into her nest of blankets, rocking gently in the porch swing. The afternoon sun was warm on her face, a welcome contrast to the crisp edge that still existed in the early spring air.

After polishing off a quiche between the two of them, Maggie had sent Logan to sleep on the couch, knowing he had had no rest for at least twenty-four hours. He had protested weakly, but then nodded off within minutes of closing his eyes. With her guests both getting the rest they needed, Maggie had tended to an abbreviated version of her daily chores, making the rounds and feeding the animals. The simple labour had worn her battered body out quickly and she'd decided to take up residence on the porch, preferring to be outside if she were going to be left alone with her thoughts.

She had expected to feel… victorious, or something, after it was all over; but all she really felt at the moment was tired. Maggie had a feeling it would be a long time before she got over the last few weeks. She knew that she could probably expect to lose some more sleep to nightmares for at least a little while longer. Taking down Bergstrom was only a small step. Others would take his place and Maggie would have to do battle again. This time though, with Simon gone, she'd be alone…

Suddenly, the creak of the screen door snapped her out of her musings.

Distractedly, she called out over her shoulder. "Hey Otus, c'mere boy."

"Hey. I'll come there; but last I looked, I wasn't a dog."

Maggie couldn't help but laugh as she twisted to glance over her shoulder.

"Sorry Max. I thought you were still asleep."

Max sat down in the space on the swing that Maggie had cleared of blankets.

"No problem," she chuckled. "Just don't let it happed again."

Concern replaced humour in Maggie's eyes as she reached up to check Max's stitches.

"How are you feeling?"

Max met Maggie's fingers with her own as they traced along the fresh line of stitches running jaggedly down the back of her neck. Smiling at the older woman, Max hoped her eyes conveyed the gratitude she felt.

"I'm feeling much better… thanks to some woman who took it upon herself to perform emergency surgery on my neck."

Maggie smiled and dropped her eyes to her lap. "It was nothing…"

Max slipped a hand under Maggie's chin, effectively silencing her deflection, and dragged the older woman's eyes up to meet hers.

"It wasn't nothing," Max answered earnestly. "You saved my life."

Maggie grasped the hand that was holding her face and threaded her fingers through Max's. "Then you can consider us even."

Max smiled brightly, squeezing Maggie's hand before letting go. "Fair enough."

Both women lapsed into silence, gazing out over the lake. A pair of grebes were making their way across the water, cutting a dazzling path into the shimmering surface. Maggie found herself lulled by the subtle, rhythmic swaying of the porch swing coupled with the warmth of another's company. Maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought.

"I guess I owe you an explanation…"

Max's voice cut into the stillness, rousing Maggie from her reverie.

Turning to meet the younger woman's gaze, Maggie answered. "You don't owe me anything Max. I meant what I said the other day. Everyone has secrets and I'm not about to pry. You've been a better friend to Logan and I than anyone could ever wish for and that's all I need to know."

Max shook her head. "No, I want to tell you… I need for you to know where I come from." Max hesitated for a moment, bracing herself to take the next step. "I want you to know the real me."

Maggie was startled by the raw need she saw in Max's eyes. It was a need to connect. She wondered how many people knew all that this young woman kept bottled inside her. Maggie was just starting to grasp the pain and loneliness that were hidden behind Max's tough outer shell. For some reason, Max had let Logan in and despite her earlier assurances; Maggie hoped that she could also offer some comfort to a woman who had given her so much. Reaching out again, she grasped Max's hand in a silent gesture of support as her companion searched for a way to start her story.

"As you've probably figured out, I'm not like most people…"

Maggie listened in rapt attention as Max told her stories of sterile labs and even more sterile people. She fought back tears at the notion of mothers being ripped away from their offspring and children forced to endure such horrible physical and mental abuse. Max painted the terror of their escape in vivid detail that left Maggie almost gasping for breath. Logan's cousin's heart broke as she learned that the assassin sent to kill her had been one of Max's 'sisters' who had succumbed to the weaknesses that Manticore had bred within her. Though the scientist in her was fascinated by Max's genetics and its side effects, she was horrified to learn that her own government had manipulated human beings… children for their own warped cause.

As she finished her story, Max eyed the older woman with trepidation, waiting for the rejection she feared would come. She measured her breathing in an effort to keep calm as she watched Maggie take a moment to process everything she'd been told. After what seemed like an eternity, Maggie smiled. When she felt the subtle pressure around her fingers increase, Max allowed herself to hope that just maybe her fears were unfounded, that by telling Maggie the truth, she wasn't setting herself up to fall… that she might be able to find the sister she'd always wanted in Logan's cousin.

"Thank you for trusting me with this Max," Maggie said, breaking the silence. "It means a lot to me."

It was Max's turn to deflect, casting her eyes to the porch. "I figured you had a right to know, considering what you went through thanks to my 'family.'"

In a reversal of their earlier position, Maggie, tucked her hand under Max's chin, gently nudging until dark eyes met grey.

"Max, I'm honoured that you feel you can trust me with your secret; but I hope that duty isn't the only reason you did it. You tell me that you've spent the last ten years looking for your family. Well, I want you to know that, if you want it, you've got that family in Logan and me."

Overwhelmed, Max tried to look away, to hide the emotion welling in her eyes. Maggie wouldn't let her, tightening her hold under her chin ever so slightly.

Maggie continued into the lengthening silence, suddenly needing to fill the void. "I'm not saying we have to go on camping trips to the Grand Tetons or something, but know that we're… that I'm here if you ever need me."

Max struggled to find her voice as one lone tear traced a hot trail down her cheek. She'd never felt lighter than she did at that moment. This woman whom she had only met a few days ago was offering her everything she'd ever wanted… well not quite everything. She really needed to talk to Logan. Before her thoughts could run off in that direction, Max forced herself back to Maggie's offer.

A smile bloomed across her features as Max reached up to clasp both of Maggie's hands in hers, holding tightly to the lifeline she'd just been offered.

"I… I don't know what to say, Maggie. Thank you," she answered with conviction, as she pulled the older woman into a hug. "This means more to me than you can ever know."

Maggie fought her own tears as she answered. "I think I might have a small inkling." Then when she felt the need to lighten the moment, she pulled back and grinned. "Consider yourself adopted, Max."

Both women laughed and the weight of the moment dissipated like mist over the lake. Settling again into the porch swing, they lapsed into comfortable silence, Max and Maggie watched as the siskins in the spruce tree flitted off to their next destination; their chirps echoing like tiny bells over the trees.

"So how's Logan?"

Startled by the sudden change in subject, Maggie took a moment to sort out her thoughts. Sighing, she leaned back in the swing.

"He's… okay. He's exhausted. I left him sleeping on the couch. You scared the hell out of him last night though."

Max chuckled mirthlessly, "I guess, we're even then."

Maggie turned to catch the younger woman's eye. This was something they needed to discuss face to face. "Max, I talked to Logan yesterday, after you… he told me what happened a week ago."

Max fought to maintain her composure.

"I…I was almost too late…"

Maggie felt her heart twist at the stricken look on Max's face. Max kept going.

"When I read the doctor's notes, I felt so cold… I almost couldn't move… I drove as fast as I could… when I got there and couldn't find him, I thought…"

Maggie laid a gentle hand on the younger woman's arm to pull her from her memory. "It's O.K. Max. You got there in time."

Max wheeled on her. "No I didn't! Something else had distracted him! I saw the gun! What would make him want to do something like that?" Max immediately felt better asking the one question that had been gnawing at her heart for the last week, even if it wasn't to the right person.

Maggie had been asking herself the same thing ever since she'd found out. What could possibly make Logan want to leave behind the people he loved? After watching him fret while she had removed the implant from Max's spine, Maggie thought she had an inkling of what it was.

"Helplessness."

"What?" Max asked.

"That's what was driving him, I think, an overwhelming feeling of helplessness."

"Logan's not helpless. He's perfectly capable and helps other people every day," Max retorted.

"You see it Max, and I see it; but Logan, at the time, couldn't see it. All he could see was his life as he had known it had been taken away and he could never get it back."

Max continued to look confused so Maggie elaborated. "All his life, Logan has seen himself as some sort of helper of the helpless. As a kid, he used to pretend he was Robin Hood, running around the backyard shooting chopsticks that he'd stolen from the kitchen from his makeshift bow as he robbed the rich to help the poor."

Max couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the image Maggie had created, but soon let her continue.

"When he created Eyes Only, Logan was able to live out his childhood fantasy, rescuing the needy and bringing down the corrupt and he prided himself in his ability to throw himself into the fray. When the shooting took that away from him, he had a hard time adjusting to being left on the sidelines while you and others did the legwork."

Max just had to interject. "Logan's never been on the sidelines. He's saved my ass more times than I can count."

Maggie smiled. "Again, I see it and you see it; but Logan couldn't get past his boyhood desires. He saw you doing what he thought should have been his job. I think he might have even been a little jealous at first; but then he fell in love with you."

Max stiffened at her suggestion; but as she opened her mouth to protest, Maggie cut her off. "Don't even think of trying to tell me 'it's not like that' I was there last night and this morning too." The older woman laughed as she watched the X5 blush and remembered that even with all that she now knew about this mysterious young woman, she was still a young woman, first and foremost. She took Max's lack of response as a sign to continue.

"Logan always believed his paralysis was a temporary thing so he never completely adjusted. He was determined to get back on his feet and take over his legwork again. But then you added another reason. Logan truly believed that to be with you, he had to be able to walk."

Max suddenly looked stricken and Maggie stopped. "What is it?"

Max glanced down and her hands, folded in her lap. "I had to run once. Lydecker was closing in on me, and Zack… my brother, came to get me out of town. Logan drove us out of the city to a cabin; but he had to stay behind. I asked him to come with me; but he said that he couldn't leave." Max stopped for a second, gazing at the clouds overhead, remembering that painful moment in the car when she thought she'd never see Logan again. This strange man who had, despite her best efforts, woven his way into her life. "When I think back on it now, I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to come. He just didn't think he could."

"What made you come back?" Maggie asked. It pained her to think of everything her cousin and Max had likely been through in the past year.

Max returned her focus to her fingers that were toying with the ends of the afghan. "It was Logan. I phoned him and Bling answered his phone… Logan was at the hospital. The bullet had migrated, they had to operate."

Maggie stared back at Max stunned. Her cousin had never told her of his brush with death. He was going to have a lot to answer to when he woke up.

Max continued, almost unaware of her surroundings. "I made it back to the hospital. He'd lost a lot of blood and blood bank supplies were low. The doctors didn't think he was going to make it. I'm a universal donor."

The non sequitur caught Maggie off guard. "Excuse me?"

Max acknowledged the older woman's presence for the first time since she'd started the story. "It's part of my engineering. We were designed to be able to give blood under any circumstance."

Understanding dawned for Maggie. "You transfused him."

"Yes."

Suddenly overwhelmed by the magnitude of what Max had done for her cousin since she'd entered his life. Maggie's eyes felt heavy with moisture as she reached out and clutched Max's hand tightly.

"Max," she said thickly. "I don't know how to thank you. You've saved my cousin's life in more ways than you can probably fathom."

Max found her voice had suddenly left her. Turning her hand to take Maggie's into her palm, she closed her fingers and squeezed tightly.

"Yeah, well, I think it's worked both ways."

… …

The river roared through the gorge below her. The relentless pounding water echoed off the slate walls, creating a constant din that threatened to drown out all other sound in the forest. The woods were damp, still fresh from last night's downpour. A single drop slipped from the tip of a fir needle and found its way into the warmth of the back of Max's shirt. The icy trail sent a shiver down her spine.

Perched on her haunches at the edge of the canyon, Max ran her hand through the loose dirt along the ledge. She could still make out hoof prints in the scuffed earth and the memory of what had happened here less than twenty-four hours ago sent a chill of a different kind through her. There had been no sign of a body below, the rushing water having washed away any evidence of Brin. Max doubted that even an X-5 could've survived that fall; but still… Either way, Brin was gone forever. Closing her eyes, Max whispered a solemn goodbye to the sister she had once known.

"Don't jump. It's not worth it."

Despite his ill-conceived attempt at humour, Max couldn't help the small smile that was tugging at her lips. After all they'd been through in the last few weeks, it was just good to hear his voice.

Standing up slowly, very much aware of the sheer drop below, Max turned and was met with a vision. Logan was perched atop his horse from the previous night, every bit the knight on his white steed. For a moment her heart swelled with everything she felt for this man that she'd only recently allowed herself to acknowledge. But it was overwhelming and her mind wasn't quite ready to let go of her fear and the hurt he'd caused her. Resting her hand on her hip, she fired back.

"I would've thought that should be my line."

The hurt that flashed over his face stopped Max cold. She knew the barb was not funny in the least, considering their history; but she didn't expect the desolation that had crossed his eyes in that instant. Then realization dawned. Their last real conversation had been their fight yesterday.

Logan had no idea the path her mind and heart had taken since then.

Realizing they had let the silence between them stretch into the realm of awkwardness, Max took the first step.

"I'm sorry Logan. That wasn't called for. I…"

Logan stopped her with a raised hand. He knew they had to talk about this. He had just hoped that he'd have more time to get his thoughts into some semblance of order. He hadn't managed to make much progress on the ride out. When Maggie had told him that Max had gone back out to the canyon, Logan had been struck with an irrational fear. Maybe she was really going to leave him this time, disappear into the woods like she should have done months ago.

He had apparently been unable to hide his anxiety from his cousin. Laying a hand on his arm in an effort to calm his swirling thoughts, Maggie had whispered calmly.

"Relax Logan. She's not going anywhere…but she could probably use some company, and a ride home."

So, he was back in the saddle one more time, racing to find Max, but for a completely different reason. They needed to get all this out in the open. Their time together earlier and his cousin's apparent insight into Max, which she'd refused to share with him, gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, they'd get their happily ever after… or at the very least, a shot at it.

Releasing a breath that he'd been holding for a while, Logan spoke.

"No. I think I deserved that. I really put you through hell that day and I owe you an apology."

Her eyes bright with moisture, Max moved closer to Logan and his mount. Laying a hand on Logan's leg, she asked the one question that had been gnawing at her since she'd come racing into his apartment last week, terrified of what she'd find.

"Why Logan?"

Though he knew rationally that he shouldn't be able to feel anything below the waist, Max's hand on his leg seemed to send a burning warmth through his body. Taking a deep breath, he schooled his thoughts. Logan had known she would ask this question eventually and a lot was riding on his answer. Closing his eyes, he dropped his gaze, afraid of what he might find in her face.

"I felt… at the time… that I had nothing left. My last hope of ever walking again had failed and… I couldn't see what I had left to hold onto."

Max pulled her hand away like she had been burned. Her eyes turned steely as she fought to trap and hold his gaze; but he still wouldn't look at her. Walking up to the horse's flank, she looked straight up into Logan's face. He cringed at the pain he saw in her dark eyes.

"I'm standing right here, Logan." Her voice failed her before she could finish the words.

"Yeah, but for how long?" The raw desperation in Logan's voice held Max in its thrall. "One of these days you're going to have to run again and then what? I can't run with you! Remember? We've been through this before and I didn't want to go through it again."

"So blowing your brains out seemed like the best option?" Max spat back. Seething, she reined in her hurt and anger, refusing to let the irrationality of the moment take over. She didn't want to fight anymore, but she had to make Logan see just what he would have been leaving behind.

Trapped in her gaze, Logan was overwhelmed by the pain and fury… the raw passion he found there. Suddenly deflated, tired of fighting and seeing no way out, he dropped his gaze back to the ground, slumping in the saddle.

"It had seemed like the only option at the time."

Max's heart clenched painfully from his defeated tone. She wanted nothing more than to get them back to where they were comfortable with each other; but she knew that was going to take some work. As a first step, she replaced her hand on Logan's leg, sliding it up a little higher, almost into the realm of sensation.

"Logan…" Her voice was thick with emotion. "Do you have any idea what losing you would've done to me?"

Max's hand trembled in its place on Logan's thigh. After months of dancing around each other, this newfound honesty was terrifying; but Max wasn't going to let him step back into safety, not this time. Stepping closer, she reached up and trapped his fingers between her own. Startled by the unexpected touch, Logan snapped his eyes back to hers.

"Logan. When I saw that report…" Max stumbled, her mind, despite her best efforts, still rebelling against sharing herself so freely. All her life she had been trained to never show any weakness, never leave herself open to attack. But ever since she'd come crashing through Logan's window, her heart had been battling her mind, crying out to share herself with him… to trust him to keep her safe. After everything they'd been through, Max realized that if she were ever going to save this… save them, she was going to have to let her heart win the battle. She was going to have to let him see her… all of her. No more hiding. Taking a deep breath, she ploughed forward.

"… Logan… when I saw those words… I was scared… terrified. I couldn't lose you." Pausing for a moment to collect herself, Max changed tack.

"What can I say? You've grown on me, Logan." Max couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of her lips, even as a tear broke free from her lashes to trace a path along her face. She tightened her grip on his fingers, enveloping his hand within her own. "All my life, I've known I was different, even wrong somehow…"

Logan tried to object to her words, tugging on their joined hands; but Max silenced him with a pleading look. '_Let me finish.'_

"At Manticore, growing up, I felt like I had a least something like a family. All of us kids… we were all different; but we belonged together. We kept each other safe… cared for each other as best we knew how."

"After the escape, I was lost. For ten years, I lived off my training and what I thought was my mission: find my family. I just didn't realize until recently that I had completed that mission when I found you."

Not five minutes ago, Logan had wanted nothing more than to escape Max's piercing gaze. Now, he couldn't look away.

Looking closely, Max could swear she caught a glimmer of his old fire flickering in the depths of his eyes. He was coming back to her; but she needed to get closer.

The feel of Max's hand slipping from his own snapped Logan out of the swirl of emotions that threatened to overtake him. Her words had left him well and truly speechless, heart beating wildly as he tried to wrap his mind around all she had and hadn't said. Twenty-four hours ago, he had been certain that he had managed to drive her away after all this time. Now, here she was professing… actually he had no idea what she was professing. Snapping back to his surroundings, Logan felt icy tendrils of fear lick at his heart. Max was nowhere to be seen. Had he dreamt the last half an hour?

A hand on his cheek gently turning his head nearly startled him out of his saddle. Turning, he was met with Max's shimmering eyes. She chuckled at his obvious confusion.

"Sorry about that. I needed to be at the same level for this."

Logan has been so absorbed in his racing thoughts, that he hadn't noticed when Max had ducked around to Artie's other flank to climb up onto a low boulder, bring them to eye level.

The fear that had lapped at his heart melted away with the warmth of Max's hand on his cheek. He leaned his faced further into that warmth before he could stop himself and was heartened further by the answering glow in Max's eyes.

"You see me, Logan." Max slipped her hand from Logan's cheek to join her other one in tightly clasping his hands. "I mean the real me, more than just my body or my fighting skills or the attitude I wear. Ever since the escape, I've been in hiding, not just from Manticore, but everyone, maybe even myself. I've always run when things got too intense or built up walls to keep people from getting through to the real me. Some of it has been for my own survival. I couldn't afford to risk too many people knowing my secret; but that's not all of it."

Max tightened her grip on Logan's hands, as though seeking an anchor in the storm of her thoughts. "A lot of it has been fear… fear that if I let someone get to know me, they would leave. But you know me. You know what makes me happy, what makes me sad. You know my past and my weaknesses and you're still here."

Logan now gripped her hands tightly, whispering fervently, "I'm not going anywhere, Max… not anymore."

Max couldn't help the gasp that slipped from her lips as relief coursed through her. She'd had no idea just how much she'd needed to hear him say that, to know that he wasn't thinking about leaving again, that he really was on his way back from the brink. Still, she wasn't finished.

"I have to admit, Logan, that at first, having you so close scared the hell out of me. You're always probing, wanting to know more, to see more of me. It went against all I've ever known; but I found myself wanting to show you more, to trust myself in your hands."

Max paused for a moment, schooling herself to finally lay her last card on the table.

"I've never felt this way with anyone." Her voice was small. A wave of shyness overtook her and she ducked her head.

Mirroring her earlier gesture, Logan slipped his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up until her chocolate eyes met his once again. The vulnerability he found there left him breathless. Never had he seen her more open and defenceless, even during her seizures and it stirred something from deep within him. His fingertips itched to slide along her jaw and into her hair. He ached to pull her closer and show her just how much her words had affected him; but he knew she wasn't finished. So he allowed his fingers leeway only to slide into a caress of her cheek, hoping to coax her final words out of her.

Slowly, the words found their way out.

"I'm in a whole new world here, Logan. You've worked your way into my life and against my better judgement I've let you in. And now… now I can's imagine my life without you." She couldn't help but lean into the warmth of Logan's hand. "I don't want to imagine my life without you."

Looking back on it, Logan would chalk it up to a momentary lapse in concentration; but in the end, it didn't matter. His fingers found their way up into her hair and before he'd even registered the movement, he felt the softness of her lips against his. The feeling that had been stirring inside him earlier blossomed in earnest now, washing over him in a wave of warmth. Her fingers released his hand with one final squeeze and found their way up his arms and to the back of his neck, igniting their path as they went.

As far as kisses went, this one was rather chaste; but Max's heart reeled at the press of Logan's lips against her own. Her heightened senses revelled in the rush of awareness that flooded over her. She hungered to feel more and slid her hand further into his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

As the need for oxygen asserted itself and Logan pulled away, Max lamented that it was all over too soon. That was before she was crushed into an embrace that nearly lifted her off her feet. Though she loved the feeling of being surrounded by him, Max could feel the change come over Logan and it wasn't good.

The words were so soft, that she wasn't entirely sure that he'd actually spoken.

"What if you have to run again?"

Max froze. Logan's fear was palpable. She now realized that this was what had been driving much of his desperation in the last few months and she wasn't going to let it haunt him anymore. Pulling back, Max sought and captured his eyes.

"Then we run together."

She stopped his impending protests with a gentle hand to his lips.

"You could never slow me down, Logan. There's nothing worth running to without you. If it ever comes down to running, we'll figure something out. We always do."

Max paused for a moment as a sly smile tugged at her lips.

"Besides, I'm starting to like the country life and I have it on good authority that we always have a home in the mountains."

Relief washed over Logan in a visible wave. His body relaxed in increments until a smile blossomed across his lips and the renewed spark in his eyes burned just a little brighter. This time his embrace was comforting instead of desperate.

"We can make this work, Max." His confidence was returning; but there was still a hint of uncertainty behind his words.

Hugging him tighter, but still mindful of his injuries, Max pressed her lips to the pulse point on his neck before turning to whisper into his shoulder, "Yeah Logan, we can make this work… I want to make this work."

Lifting her head, she allowed her fingers to trace the path of a tear that had found its way out from under his lashes as she gifted Logan with a brilliant smile. "Now can we go home? I don't know about you, but I need to sleep for about a week."

Her joy was contagious and Max's heart warmed to see a genuine smile brighten his face, his eyes alight.

"Sure thing Max. I'll give you a lift."

Max slid into the custom saddle, gently settling in against him. She revelled in the feel of his arms slipping around her and the warmth of his body pressed against her own. As Logan coaxed Artie into motion and guided him to the trailhead, Max spared one last, lingering glance to the roaring canyon below them. Silently, she bid farewell to the family of her past. They would always live on in her heart; but it was time to let go…time to release herself from the shackles of her childhood and move forward with her life. The thought buoyed her heart and she leaned back into Logan's loose embrace, smiling as he tightened his hold in response. They still had a long way to go; but they were on the right road. They were both done hiding. The wall that had grown up between them now lay in ruin.

Logan was on his way back and Max was confident that he wouldn't reach the level of despair he had dropped to last week ever again…she would make sure of it. As for herself, the fear that had held her heart captive for so long now loosened its grip, leaving room for Max to let people in… to let Logan in.

The setting sun cloaked the new spring foliage in gold, enveloping the forest in a shimmering canopy. The waning light filtered through the boughs and illuminated the trail ahead. Comfortable on their path together, Max and Logan settled into their journey, following the sunbeams that danced along the trail as together, they found their way home.

The end 


End file.
